#could we have at least kept him :( he and cole were buddies

[whats-an-absurdly-long-username]

no i dont have a favorite.

[billthedrake]

Another story idea given by @maturedadsandmen

BIRD IN THE HAND

Cole Walker was about two blocks from his destination when his phone rang. He normally wouldn't answer it, but it was his sorta-kinda boyfriend/fuckbuddy John. Cole still made fun of John for still preferring to call instead of just text, but that's what you get sometimes for dating a man much older.

"Hey," the 24 year old answered. DC weather had moved from cold to brisk and his cheeks were flush.

"Hiya sexy," the said. John's voice was a craggy tenor, with an upstate New York accent. "Just wanted to hear your voice."

Cole smiled. The whole arrangement with John was weird, to say the least. The congressional staffer didn't even know the guy's last name. John was an FBI agent who was VERY closeted. In a town like DC, that wasn't unusual, and Cole himself had only told a couple of close friends that he was gay. But John seemed to want the boyfriend stuff as much as the sex. Cuddling, long talks, dates. All while being crazy protective of his privacy.

"Tough day?" Cole asked. He wished he didn't feel so eager to talk to the man, but it wasn't like he was ready for an open boyfriend either. The fact the federal agent was 47 made something real and public seem impossible to the younger man. He, too, enjoyed the play-pretend nature of their dating if he was honest with himself.

"And how," John breathed. "I'm about to meet a buddy for dinner, but I wanted to call... we still on for date night Saturday? I'll take you somewhere nice." It was only then that Cole could tell the man was in a public place and talking a little quieter than normal.

"Yeah," Cole replied. "And you don't have to go all out. I just enjoy seeing you."

There was a contrite pause on the other end. "I know I've not been good at things lately.. but would it be pushing my luck to have you stay over this time?"

Cole's heart pounded. It was hard to hold a grudge. "No, not at all."

John's volume got lower. "Damn, studly," he hissed. "That's gonna help me get through this week all right."

"Yeah," the younger man chimed in.

"Listen... I gotta go. But see you Saturday?"

"Yep," Cole replied. "Looking forward to it."

After they hung up, Cole felt guilty. It wasn't like he and John were boyfriends, really, not in the conventional sense, and they'd never said anything about being exclusive. If the agent ever asked, Cole would very likely agree to be a one-man guy but until then...

But the real reason he felt guilty is that Paul Ricciardi pushed his buttons in a different way than John. Cole dubbed him the "Head Honcho" is his mind, and while Ricciardi wasn't the number one guy at the Bureau, he wasn't that far down the org chart. In a lot of ways, he was the opposite of John - married and addicted to down-low sex, more dominant in bed, and confident in hooking up with a recently graduated dude despite his high-profile position. He knew Cole Walker was after dick and wasn't gonna blab to anyone.

Paul was just wrapping up a phone call when he heard the buzzer of the apartment. The rental was justified as a place to crash for late nights, but certainly his wife knew her 53-year-old husband kept on an affair, maybe more than one. They just never talked about it. The dont-ask-dont-tell approach worked for the law man.

Ricciardi's gruff face cracked a smile when he opened the door to see Cole. Dudes like this were dime a dozen in DC... congressional staffer, needy bottom, daddy issues galore. But this Walker kid was exceptional: he'd played soccer at Georgetown and his bulking up since graduation had interfered with that youthful jock look. The real deal. No two ways about, Cole was gorgeous. Just the right amount of masculine, the right amount of cute, total boy-next-door who still carried that jock gain as he walked in.

"Hey," Cole's voice said, quietly as he walked in. He respected Paul's need for discretion, it was almost intuitive.

"Hey," the career law enforcement man whispered in a soft growl, shutting the door. "You look hot as fuck."

Cole's eyes swept up Ricciardi's build. Mid-50s and fit as ever, the toned daddy beef filling out Paul's conservative but expensive suit and the short-cropped gray hair setting off the intensity of the man's brown eyes. The tie was loosened but other wise he was a poster boy for Bureau leadership. "You too," he gulped.

Paul grinned and reached up to cup the back of Cole's neck, yanking the younger man into a hot kiss.

Cole moaned into Paul's mouth as that thick tongue conquered him. He could taste scotch and smell the man's cologne. Reflexes kicked in as he reached forward to hold the man's suited waist, enjoying the feel of the Head Honcho's hard body beneath.

The kiss was over as quickly as it started. Ricciardi stepped back and reached down to unzip his suit trousers. The man wasn't overly hung - like John, his cock was meaty, even fat. "Gonna suck Daddy's cock, kid?" Paul roughly growled.

"Fuck yes," Cole said. He's been with only six men since first becoming sexually active at 21. But he quickly realized he was all bottom - orally and anally. He was still surprised he'd bagged two FBI men over the last year and a half. Luck, for sure, but it was also clear the ex-soccer jock had a type. Both Paul and John were strong, silent daddy personalities. His own father was a PA state trooper, and one day Cole would have to analyze the fucked-up part of his head that got turned on by that. Or not. Maybe it was something that could never fully be explained - it's just something about a law enforcement man pushed his buttons big time.

Paul Ricciardi was careful about who he fucked. He had a one-at-a-time rule, for the sake of discretion. By now, he'd had his share of hot young men. He'd met some real sluts and a couple of ex-jocks like Cole. But no one had combined that effortless masculinity with a real bottom eagerness like this kid.

"Fuck yeah," he growled as Cole began deep throating that fat hog. "Swallow Daddy."

More than he realized Cole was worked up that evening. He would have chalked it up to missing this cock, but actually Paul had reached out to him more frequently lately, no longer the once a month booty call. Maybe the more he had it, the more he wanted it.

That hand now clasped the back of Cole's neck and held tight as Paul's hips went into overdrive. Fast hard jabs battered the back of Cole's gullet. It was too much, and Cole coughed some on it, which made Paul pause before starting a gentler, if no less deep, thrusting.

Finally he pulled out, that dick spit wet and rock hard. It was beautiful to Cole. Like with John, he decided he liked the extra girth more than he craved extra length. For as bottomy as he was, the young stud wasn't a size queen. He'd prefer a tool that could use him without too much discomfort.

"To the bedroom, kid," Paul hissed, a hint of a smile cracking on the stern face. He was used to being in charge in every aspect of his life. He was in charge now. But something about this jock stud made him feel a little less in control.

Cole scrambled up. He'd learned to come over to Paul's prepared. Sometimes the two took their time, sometimes the married man seeded him in two minutes flat and sent him back home. As they entered the spare bedroom for the apartment, Cole quickly peeled off his sweatshirt and T in one move and just as quickly kicked off his sneakers and peeled down the jeans. There was nothing underneath and his own hardon stood up erect and excited. Cole may not have had the girth of his boyfriend or this man, but he was hung longer and the sparser crotch hair made his jock bone look even longer.

Paul was taking off his suit and laying it on a chair. He'd hang it up later. For now, his ravenous eyes were on Cole as he got onto the bed, on all fours. They didn't always mate this way but it was Ricciardi's favorite position, and Cole's too, thought they'd never talked about it. They just fucked.

Then watched the Head Honcho step toward the bed, his body tightly dense from dedicated workouts. The chest fur wasn't as silver as his hair, but it was getting there, and it got denser the closer toward that magic cock, which was already dripping.

"Damn, when was the last time you got off?" Cole asked.

Paul climbed on the bed and ran his hand over the ex-jock's dusty haired but half smooth rump. "Fucked the wife yesterday," he hissed. "I'm just a horny guy."

"I'll say," Cole replied. He didn't know what he thought about fooling around with a married man. It probably wasn't the moral thing to do. At least John was single, or said he was single. Maybe the man lied, hence the lack of a last name.

Then Cole felt the nuzzling of the man's face in his clean crack and the contact of that thick tongue. John was actually better at rimming, or at least liked to go longer, but something about Paul's intensity drove him wild. "Yes," he hissed backing his ass back against the man's munching face. A hard slap hit his cheek as the Head Honcho dove in more eagerly. It was gonna be a quick one, but Ricciardi was a grade-A ass man and could rarely resist a taste of Cole's jock hole.

"Goddamn," the FBI man finally said as he leaned up. Cole could feel that hard beef press against his back as Paul reached over for some lube. Just a squirt, not too much... Ricciardi liked a snug ride.

The man quickly fingere Cole and almost as quickly lined up that fat prick to press in.

Cole's deflowering, the night after his 21st birthday, had been by a very patient man, and he'd lucked out to find a couple of tops who knew how to go slow at first. Paul Ricciardi was the first man to show Cole he didn't always need slow.

That dick popped in now, snapping open the elasticity of the young man's pucker.

"Fuck yes!" Paul growled. He leaned forward again, covering Cole's smooth back with his own meaty furry one. "You feel that kid?"

"God yes," Cole hissed. Maybe it was the rank or the badge, but everything about Paul turned him on and made this FAR easier than he'd ever imagine. He even enjoyed the crude way Ricciardi's bone just barreled in further, past his internal tightness. "Fuck me, man."

That was Paul's cue, his green light. Wrapping an arm around Cole's shoulder and neck, he held on tightly and thrust all the way into the hot stud. Barely taking a rest, he began fucking, hard.

"Oh fuck!" Cole whimpered. He wished he could keep his normally deep voice low, but the pitch rose once Paul reamed him like this. "Oh god, oh fuck!"

A hand clasped over his mouth. Paul wasn't overly verbal today, though he could be. Instead he gripped the kid close and rode him hard. It had been a tough week and he needed a fuck like this to channel his stress.

Each mating like this made Cole wonder if it could get better. His prick was now leaking like crazy on Paul's bedsheets and his muscles flexed involuntarily in the man's strong grip.

THIS is what made him feel about going around behind John's back. Cole wished to god that John could fuck like this, or would fuck like this. The Head Honcho was even less available a man than John, but he outmanned Cole's boyfriend in the sack.

BAM, BAM, BAM. Paul's fat cock was relentless now. Some guys couldn't take it. Cole could, and would. The very knowledge had the FBI big-wig's prick getting slick with his own precum.

Cole concentrated and forced himself to quiet his moans. The hand unclasped from his mouth and moved to feel up more of the ex-soccer jock's lean body.

"You're close," he heard. Paul wasn't asking a question.

Cole forced his voice back to its deeper register. "Yah." He felt light headed now. Before Paul he thought hands-free cums were a myth. They weren't though, and he was about to offer proof again now.

"Oh shit," he breathed in a whisper. His dick jerked and the first spray of precum jetted out, matching what Paul was pushing deeper and deep into his guts with each hard jab.

BAM, BAM, BAM. The fucking was harder and faster, if possible, only Ricciardi was starting to lose his cadence. The man was orgasming now.

Cole's dick now jerked again, and the cum flew out. Seven heavy ropes of young cum being pressed out from within. Cole didn't pass out exactly, but he lost focus, like he'd sucked too many poppers at once.

Paul's body slowed and now rested immobile on his back. A light kiss was the one gesture of affection Ricciardi offered him, ever, but the simple act was more powerful for it. Cole wished he could have experienced his partner's cum more vividly, but the payoff of the simultaneous orgasm made up for it. He and John had done that once.

Paul rolled his muscular, FBI-fit body off his sexual conquest and lazily plopped onto the mattress. He was sweaty and handsome as fuck and his prick still twitched in its wetness, semen oozing out of the tip.

Just as lazily Ricciardi reached over to stroke Cole's side as the younger stud gingerly stretched his legs and lay on his back. "Remind me to thank your boyfriend for the hall pass," he hissed.

Cole had told the Head Honcho that he was seeing someone. He's admitted it to put Paul at ease for a discreet hookup, but he regretted sharing that info now. "He doesn't know, actually."

Paul chuckled. "I thought you said you had an arrangement... but that's cool, kid."

Cole felt embarrassed. "I mean, we don't have an exclusive thing, but I guess I haven't gone into details with him."

Normally the Head Honcho would be getting up, going to piss, showering off, or just slipping on some sweat pants in a clear signal it was Cole's time to go. Instead the man's eyes seemed not to get enough of the 24-year old and his hand moved up to gingerly stroke Cole's cute-handsome face.

"Well, I'm glad this works out for you," Ricciardi said. "I know I come on strong, but you're really fucking hot."

"I know," Cole smiled. He knew his worth, but it was also a joke.

Paul got it, chuckling. "As you can tell, I'm a busy man... but I'd love to see you a little more often. If it works out with you and your boyfriend." For a take-charge man, he seemed surprisingly shy in his request.

"That's be hot," Cole said. Paul Ricciardi didn't kiss as much as Cole would like, almost never after the act itself. But it was hard to give up the man's harder approach in bed and his overall sexiness. "You're really fucking hot, too."

"I know," Paul repeated Cole's joke back to him in perfect timing. "Am I hotter than your boyfriend?" he asked with a wink, then patted Cole's chest. "Sorry, that was my male competitiveness kicking in."

Cole nodded. He wasn't going to give Paul the satisfaction of an answer. Besides he didn't know how he would answer. John was sexy as fuck, too, and reminded Cole a lot of Paul in his stature, build, and appearance. "Maybe I shouldn't admit this but he works for the bureau, too."

"Yeah?" he smirked.

"Yeah," Cole nodded. He was glad to see Paul's laid back side. Maybe being married, the man wasn't bothered by hearing about another man. Lazily, the man's fingers caressed Cole's chest muscle. "John. A field agent," Cole said, opening up. He'd not been able to tell a single other soul about the most important development of his life over the last year. It turns out this DL hookup with a DC big shot gave him the only opportunity. He blushed as he added, "Funny thing is I don't even know his last name. He's super closeted. Always going on about how he's married to the Bureau and doesn't have time for anything else."

"Sounds like my brother Jo..." Paul stopped, his face growing beet red and his fingers pausing in their motion on Cole's naked body. "Jesus Christ, you're not fucking my brother are you?"

Cole was taken aback. The idea was crazy and yet once Paul said, he knew it was possible, even likely. The resemblance wasn't dead-on, but it wasn't far apart either. "I dunno," he stammered. "Fuck."

Paul got out of bed and Cole felt bad. Ashamed but also pissed. This guy was probably overreacting. There had to be a thousand Johns in the Bureau. But judging from the Head Honcho's reaction, Cole worried he'd fucked up a good thing.

Only Paul's expression wasn't anger as he walked back in. He had his phone in his hand. He slid back into bed and held it up. There was a photo of John already, probably taken a year ago at the beach, the agent in chino shorts and a casual polo, barefoot in the sand at sunset.

"Is that him?" Paul asked, like he was interrogating a suspect.

Cole nodded, tears welling at the edge of his eyes. "Sorry, Paul," he muttered. "Fuck, I didn't know."

Paul gave a grimace which was strangely comforting as he set down his phone. "I know you didn't, kiddo." He gave Cole a good look, like he was still trying to process things. "Confirmed bachelor, my ass," he laughed cynically.

"I don't know... he's kept things casual with us. Sometimes I think it's more a fuck buddy thing, you know?" Cole was trying to make it sound better, but the more he talked the more he realized it was sounding worse.

Paul had one last shake of the head. "Well, my brother had good fucking taste... I'll give him that." Then, "maybe you should go, OK?"

His tone was surprisingly empathetic, not mean. Cole could tell Paul was feeling concern that he'd encroached in onto his brother's guy and was processing the fact John was very probably full-on gay. And maybe the Head Honcho was worried how Cole was processing all this.

"Yeah," the ex-jock said, quickly gathering his clothes to put back on.

"Don't worry, kid," Paul said, leaning up in his bed, still naked and hunky looking. "This shit happens. Well, maybe not very often, but it's nothing to get freaked over."

"I'm OK," Cole said gamely. A million thoughts were racing in his mind but one worry in particular.

"But what?" Ricciairdi prompted, able to tell something was bugging the young guy.

"I shouldn't admit this," Cole said. "But I'm gonna miss the sex we've had."

Paul's brown eyes sought his and it was like their connection was a spark of energy. "Me, too, kid, me too."

Cole Walker thought about those words the whole walk back to his apartment.

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Take My Hand (Part Three)

Summary: feelings are hurt, mistakes are made, and someone wakes up in the wrong bed (one of three four ??? parts) 

Pairings: Rafael Barba x Reader, Sonny Carisi x Reader

Word Count: 6,992

Song:  It wasn't right / The way it all went down / Looks like you know that now (closure by taylor swift) 

Warnings: T, spoilers for 19x13 (the undiscovered country) and use of some dialogue from that episode, infant death, some swearing, drinking, drunken behavior, so much angst, 

A/N: thank you for @bucky-of-the-opera​ and @laneygthememequeen​ for letting me bounce ideas off and being such amazing beta readers. and thank you to @qvid-pro-qvo​ for the support and enthusiasm as i muddled my way through these scenes. And thank you to all of you for reading :) 

“Another,” you slam your glass on the table, “please.” 

“Are you sure you want another?” the bartender raised an eyebrow at you, the glasses lined around you. 

“I asked for another,” you hiss, your voice raising and falling, the sound making the ache in your head sharp, a knife dragging across your forehead from temple to temple. 

The drink lands in front of you, "I'm cutting you off," you click your teeth together, your fingers pressed the cool glass, the only thing grounding you, "hey, hey," she snaps her fingers, "did you drive here?" 

You scoff, "Who drives in New York?" The remark doesn't come off as biting as you want, words slurring. 

The bartender taps on your phone, lying on the counter amongst the glasses, "call someone to pick you up. We're closing. Don't go home by yourself." 

You sip at your drink, your throat numb to any burn alcohol could provide you — the thrill gone, only left the bitter depressant you needed to relieve the pain. But there was no amount that could relieve this pain because one word brought it back — Rafael. 

A wound that had scabbed over so times could still bleed, and this pain came with no adrenaline to numb it. But nothing could numb this pain — the one searing in your hollow chest, your heart long forlorn the moment you stepped from that office — no, it was earlier. Was it the moment you chose to love him? No, maybe it was the moment you kissed him, sunk into those eyes made for sinking, and you stood at the helm, unwavering. Because, after all, it was your heart to sink. 

You loved him — you loved him even when he was completely unloveable in his behavior — your adoration for toleration. You loved him even when you didn't want to — when you knew he didn't deserve it, when you deserved more. You loved him, but you didn't know why. 

And you wished you never did. 

The bartender snaps her fingers again, "Hey, please call someone because I don't want you leaving here alone." 

But you missed him, you scrolled through your contacts, finding his name so easily — his contact picture was of him in the office, sitting beside you on his couch with a mouthful of dumplings, irritated by something Buchanan had said. The next picture on your camera roll if you remembered was him lunging for your phone, and the third was of him kissing you, the taste of soy sauce on his lips. 

Was the last time you kissed him the last time? Would it be the last time you touched him? The last time you slept beside him? 

Your finger hovered over the call button — it would be easy to call him, to talk to him, to love him. But, your thumb slides right, going back to your contacts, just because it was easy didn't mean it was right. 

Tears slid down your face, as you downed the rest of your drink. 

But you needed to call someone — someone you trusted. 

Sonny did not expect to spend his Thursday night (or was it Friday morning?)  like this — not at Forlini’s, not out at 3 AM, and certainly not picking you up. 

You weren't exactly clear about much on the phone — between the slurring and the mumbling he was only able to make out the address and "can you pick me up?"

He hurried down the street, sidestepping several burly men, who jeered at him as he passed by, his nerves shot at this point. He had seen at least eight of the men he's passed in lockup, and here you were in the thick of it. 

What were you thinking? 

He finds the place with ease, stepping into it, finding the bartender wiping up a table by the front. Irritated, she jerks her head towards the bar, "over there, the last drink hit hard, so you might have some trouble getting home, buddy." 

His brow wrinkles, "What do you—" 

"Sonny!" your voice is high, throwing up your hands in a to-do, as you stumble off the stool, while Sonny barely moves in time to catch you. 

“Whoa, whoa, are you okay, counselor?” you pout, sighing loudly, as you gently take his hands off of you, instead intertwining your fingers with his. 

“I told you to call me by my name, Sonny,” he clears his throat, feeling his ears burn as you tugged him closer, peering up at him with a wide grin, “or should I start calling you Detective Carisi?” your voice low and teasing, he leans away. 

Okay, he bites his lip, stepping away from you. 

What had he gotten himself into? 

After several minutes of bargaining, bartering, and bribes, he was able to convince you to leave the bar, much to his (and the bartender’s) relief. But then again, the problems kept coming. He pulls you outside, and you’re shivering, your suit jacket clearly not enough. He pulls off his sweatshirt, handing it to you, you open your mouth to protest, but when another strong wind blows through, and you pull it over your shoulders. 

He glances away, but his eyes wander back to you — his ears burning at the sight of you in his clothes. 

No, no, this was not the time, he chided himself. 

“Come on, let’s get you home, sweetheart,” and you pull away from him. 

“I can’t go home,” he crosses his arms, struggling to keep his temper even at 2 in the morning, his patience worn away to nothingness in that bar. 

“Sweetheart,” you shake your head — now you were just being stubborn, “the bar is closed, you have to go home.” 

“No, I can’t go home,” and he sees the tears in your eyes, streaking down your face, and you’re shaking your head, arms crossed, “I can’t, Sonny. Please.” 

And his irritation turns to fear — he’s seen this before, too many times, far too many times, a sinking feeling in his gut, “What happened?” 

“Sonny—” your voice breaks, it was a blurred line between anger and fear — and he didn’t know what he felt right now — but he knew he was going to lose his mind if you didn’t tell him what was going on right now. 

“Did someone do something to you?” you shake your head, “did they touch you—” 

“No, Sonny, no,” you wipe your tears away, sniffing, “I just broke up with the guy I was seeing. The one I told you about. It wasn’t working,” you gave a watery chuckle, “it never worked to begin with.” 

He says your name, his anger simmering, “I’m—” 

You wave him off, before sighing, “I just can’t deal with him right now. And if I go home,” your voice shakes, “he might show up there and I can’t do that. I can’t.” 

Sonny feels his heart thump against his chest, reaching for your hand, squeezing it, “Then we won’t.” 

He takes you to his place, it doesn’t take long to get to — it takes longer to get you out of the cab, fully asleep on his shoulder by the time they arrive. His arm around you, supporting you, he takes you inside, “You take the bed, okay? I’ll sleep on the couch.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” you mumble, leaning against him as he unlocks the door, hating how he liked the way you felt against him, and he sighs. No, it feels like he does. You were his friend first — anything he felt was irrelevant. He shut the door behind him. 

Until it wasn’t. But it wouldn’t be relevant — not tonight. 

“Come on,” he helps you to his bedroom, having you sit at the edge of the bed, kneeling as he takes your shoes off for you. He looks up to find you staring at him, eyes glassy, “What’s wrong?” 

“You really care about me, don’t you, Sonny?” and he tilts his head. 

“Of course I do,” he frowns, “what do you—” 

And you kiss him. It’s brief, but in his mind, it feels like forever — your lips were as soft as he thought they would be. He tastes the alcohol on your tongue, but that’s nothing compared to you. 

He had never wanted to feel this way. 

When did he first feel it? 

When you had comforted him about Coles? No, maybe when you asked him to join you for a drink after shadowing? Or maybe it was the moment he saw you in your office, when you told him to call you by your name — when you called him by his. 

He pulls away, and you sit, breath hot against his, whispering so quietly he barely hears it even in the silence, “I wish he cared about me the way you did.” 

And he supposed it didn’t matter — helping you lay down — because it didn’t mean anything anyway. 

Your first memory is regret, followed by pain — in that order — a sharp pain in your head stirs you into consciousness and into terror because, not only were you surely going to die, but in a stranger’s home. A knife would have been kinder than a hangover — when was the last time you had one? Have you ever had one before? 

Your stomach lurched — you didn’t need to think about that right now. 

You pushed yourself up, mind swimming and muscles screaming, your eyes surely bench pressing a thousand pounds to stay open, what the fuck happened— 

The picture on the bedside table came into focus — was that— 

It was Sonny with his niece, both their smiling faces staring back at you — almost mocking the situation you had gotten yourself into. 

What had you done last night? 

You groan softly, as the memories come back to you, as your hand clutches at your forehead, slowly sliding down, — the fight, the bar, the drinking, calling Sonny to get you and— your fingers brush your lips— 

Fuck. 

You kissed him — you had kissed Sonny. Flashes of it came back — you rocking forward to kiss him, his lips soft against yours, pulling away from you. Tears burned your eyes — congrats, you had somehow managed to blow up your life in so many ways in one night. 

You were the worst — the worst. 

Was this rock bottom? You didn’t know you could fall so far — to the point where you didn’t recognize yourself — drinking to forget, hurting the people who cared, and throwing it away for someone who didn’t even care. 

No more, you wiped your tears away, reaching for your purse, pulling a pen and notepad from your bag, this needed to end. 

You deserved more. 

You always did. 

You walk into your apartment, stepping inside to the sound of someone walking around, and you tense, your phone clenched in your hand, glancing around — and then you hear his voice. 

Breathless, he steps out from the kitchen, and he whispers your name in the silence of the morning. His arms around you in a moment, your arms at your sides“I’ve been calling all morning — I came here and you weren’t here, I thought something had—” he breaks off, seemingly able to breath again, but you couldn’t — you never could with him. 

“What are you doing here?” you whisper, breaking away from him, taking several steps back. 

“What do you mean? I called you — i couldn’t find you—” 

“You don’t need to find me — it’s over,” your voice broke, crossing your arms, “leave.” 

And his eyes are drawn to your sweatshirt, hanging low on your body, and his eyes narrow, “Were you with someone else?” You blink, realizing you still had Sonny’s sweatshirt on from last night, “were you cheating on—” 

“Cheating?” you bark out a laugh, raising your eyebrows, “cheating on who? On what? We’re nothing to each other, Rafael. It was true last night, and it’s true today.” 

“This isn’t nothing — we aren’t nothing,” he shakes his head, “what do you want? Do you want a relationship? Tell me, I’ll do it.” 

“I want you to leave,” you swallow thickly, “It’s over, Raf, we can’t do this anymore.”

“I’m telling you I’ll do anything—” he whispers your name in the silence of your heart breaking, he steps forward and you step away — the gap between you a chasm, a lake made of your own tears, “I love you.” 

You shake your head, tears slipping down your cheeks, “No, no—” 

“I do,” he pleads, “I do, mi amor.” 

“You love me until you don’t,” you meet his gaze, emerald eyes shiny with tears, “I can’t do that anymore — I need more, I deserve more.” 

He wipes his tears with the back of his hand, “This is it?” 

“It is,” he steps forward, and you don’t step away this time, his warm cupping your cheek for the last time, your tears rolling over the knuckles of his fingers. 

“Can I kiss you goodbye?” he asks — and you squeeze your eyes shut, nodding. His breath is warm against your lips, his touch comforting and familiar. Your lips meet — he feels like home, his arms around your waist, splayed and lingering as if they never wanted to leave — and you didn’t want them to. Your lips part and meet over and over, until you think he’s stolen the very breath from your lungs. Your fingers fisted in his shirt, and you don’t know if you want to push him away or pull him closer. 

You pull away — and it takes everything in you, a sob stuck in your throat — your foreheads brushing, and his hands reach for you as you pull away, but you brush past him, “Please go,” your back to him, you don’t watch him leave, instead hearing his footsteps against the floor, the door creaking open, and a pause. 

“I’m sorry, mi amor.” 

And the door clicks shut, and you sink to the floor, your back to the bottom of your couch, as you cry silently. 

You were too. 

Sonny wakes up to the sound of a door closing. 

He curses under his breath, throwing off his blanket haphazardly. He nearly trips over himself trying to leave his apartment. But his stumbling was not fast enough to catch you — already long disappeared down the stairs of his apartment. He walks back to his room, finding his bed made with wrinkled sheets — the same ones you had kissed him on — a note in your place: 

Sonny, 

I’m so sorry. I was in a bad place, I wasn’t myself, but it’s no excuse for how I treated you — making you pick me up, take care of me, and kissing you — and everything in between. It was a mistake. I can’t change what I already did, but I’m sorry for everything — and I won’t burden you again like that — ever. 

‘It was a mistake.’

Sonny stares at the note — finger brushing against the wet splotch on the paper. And he couldn’t help but think there was another door that closed last night — and he wondered if there would ever be another chance. 

There was a sharp knock at Rafael’s door, and Jack McCoy stuck his head in, “Counselor, do you have a minute?” Rafael barely looks up from his work — his late start and no sleep did him no favors, he was already buried in work and you were in motions hearings all morning on top of it. 

Not that he wanted to see you anyway — not after this morning. 

All night he had waited for you — he called, he texted, he left voicemails — he did everything but send you a fax. You always teased him that his propensity for sending a fax made his age show — and he always replied to that with a kiss and a grin with a promise to show you that with age came experience. 

And now he would never kiss you again. 

He looked for you too — he spent hours pacing his apartment until he couldn’t take it anymore — and he started to look. He checked with your friends, he looked in at the office, and he finally checked on your place. You had given him a key before — for emergencies — but usually it was for late nights he would crawl in beside you, his arms curled around your middle. And you would lean into his touch, a sigh on your lips, even as you slept. 

And now he would never sleep next to you again. 

“Rafael?” McCoy asked, and Rafael snapped from his stupor, rubbing his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t sleep well last night,” he leaned back away from his work, clearing his throat, “what was it that you needed from me, Jack?” 

“I just wanted to inform you that your A.D.A. has resigned with a week’s notice,” and he blinked, his heart slowly caving in upon itself, “I allowed as such since I figured with the case flow, we should be fine for a week with a man down, but if you need any help, please let me know and I”ll have another A.D.A. assist you.” 

He nods, dumbstruck, as Jack turns to go, “Wait, Jack,” he looks back, “was there a reason given?” 

He offers a sad and knowing smile, “Needed a change, new opportunities — a need to grow,” he slips his hands into his pockets, “everyone does, son.” 

“Of course, thank you.” and there he knew —  he knew that you had outgrew him. 

And it was his fault. 

It doesn’t take long for the news to spread across SVU — and you’re careful to drop by on a day that Sonny won’t be there, shame still lingering in your chest about that night. You knew that you should face him — you knew you should talk to him, but you knew that it would only make things harder. And you didn’t want to do that to him. 

But mostly you didn’t want to do it to yourself. 

“We’re going to miss you around here, counselor,” Liv squeezes your shoulder, offering you a warm smile. 

“Won’t be the same without you — who else is going to get that stick out of Barba’s ass?” Fin asks, and you chuckle, but his name carves another fresh wound into your skin, lingering just as his touch did, “but seriously, you ever need anything—” 

“I’ll take you up on that, Fin,” 

“Seriously, anything you need,” Amanda smiles, and you nod, biting your lip. 

“Could you actually do something for me?” you hold up a bag, “can you give this to Sonny? He lent it to me the other night at the office.” 

Amanda frowns, “Don’t you want to tell him goodbye yourself?” 

“I will, but I just want to make sure he gets this back first, before I forget,” you lie — and you hope she can’t see through it, see through you, but it feels like everyone can — skin rubbed raw from the last week, red and exposed and fragile, “please?” 

“Of course,” she takes it without another word, but you can still feel her watching you as you leave the precinct for the last time, hands in your pockets. 

It’s a large change — new job, new place, and new borough. And it takes some time. 

You find another job relatively easily — the alumni network at your alma mater and your experience as a prosecutor makes it simple for you to step into place at a boutique defense firm in the Bronx. It’s as natural as a transition as you can hope for. 

Your colleagues are kind, guiding, helpful — and your work is different, but familiar — a different view of the same picture with a distinct goal of making the government uphold its burden and to hold the phrase, “innocent until proven guilty” with conviction — and hopefully without a conviction for your clients. 

When the news broke, it didn’t take long for you to hear the whispers and it didn’t take long for the whispers to become an outcry.

“Did you hear about the Manhattan A.D.A. on trial?” a first year associate asked another, and you freeze, your head snapping over, blood running cold. 

“What happened?”

~~~

“Jack McCoy,” 

“Jack, what the hell is going on?” you hissed in your office, shutters shut and door closed, “I just heard that—” 

“That Rafael Barba is on trial for murder? You heard right,” a hint of a sigh in the back of his throat, “I had no choice — my hands were tied.” You knew he didn’t — your anger receding, the office can’t be seen giving him any favor. He needed to be treated like anyone else — but he wasn’t just anyone else, was he? 

Not to you.

Your mouth was dry, “What happened?” 

Jack explained — everything — the parents, the baby, the hospital. Two parents caught between an impossible decision about their child now deemed to be braindead, and a mother who wanted nothing more than her child to be at rest. But she wasn’t the one who did it. Rafael did, against the father’s wishes. And now he was going to trial for murder. 

Even as Jack explained, your words kept echoing in your ears — “you’re too busy saving the rest of the world.” 

“Does he have representation yet?” your mind raced with images of him in jail, the ostracization, the media outrage, the shame — fuck. 

What the hell were you thinking, Rafael? 

“Not to my knowledge, but you can’t—” 

“I know I can’t,” you scoff, “but I know someone who can and will,” you scrolled through your contacts, finding the one you were looking for, “Is he okay?” you asked softly. 

“As well as he can be,” you could almost see Jack frowning, “I don’t wish to see anything happen to him, but no one is above the law, you know that.” 

“I know, but I also know him—” and despite everything — the pain, the heartbreak, the anger — you knew he didn’t deserve this, “and I know I can’t let him go to jail.” 

“I know,” he warns, sighing, “I want the same result as you, counselor, just tread lightly.” 

“I will,” a shay sigh escapes your chest, and you swallow the lump in your throat, trying not to let your voice break, “will he be okay?”

He gives a bitter chuckle, “After this many years of doing this, you would think I could predict what a jury will do — but I don’t know. Juries surprise you and that cuts both ways. And I hope this time it cuts the way we want it to.” 

“Thank you Jack, for everything,” 

You can almost see him smile, “Of course, anytime.” 

And now there was one more phone call you needed to make — the phone only rang twice before he picked up, “Regretting your wrong choice in workplace already? Only after, what, a few weeks? I think that’s a new record in job changes, counselor.” 

You snort. Randy Dworkin never changed, did he? “I told you, Randy — your firm is too much of a boys’ club for my taste.” 

“But I know you play rough, and this is more a roughhouse than a boys’ club — you’d dominate them all in a moment, and we’d be nothing but your humble servants.” 

“And here I thought you saved the theatrics for the courtroom,” you hear him give a small gasp. 

“You wound me, counselor. And another thing, if you’re not calling to tell me you’ve changed your mind, then you must be calling for a favor. And as one of your old mentors, let me remind you of an old adage — you catch more flies with honey than vinegar,” you shake your head. 

“It’s not exactly a favor,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “Let me start over — I need you to represent a former colleague of mine.” 

“And this is not a favor, how?” 

“Because this is a case you’re going to definitely want your name on.” 

“If you don’t want to represent me, that’s fine,” Rafael was beginning to regret taking this meeting — even with half the defense attorneys in the city ducking his calls, maybe he would be better off defending himself pro se-- 

“I don't wanna represent you, I have to represent you. Cases like this wet my whistle, so to speak,”  Dworkin explained, sighing, as Rafael raised an eyebrow, “So, what did the little bastard do to you?”

--And he was becoming more sure with every passing second. 

“This was a mistake,” but Dworkin waves him back down.

“Okay, okay,” Dworkin backs off, looking all too pleased with himself, “I’ll skip the self-defense angle,” and Rafael found himself reluctantly sitting back down. Randy Dworkin may be smarmy, he may be endlessly irritating, but he was good at his job, better than good — as much as Rafael hated to admit it —  and he needed help. 

“I’m sorry I wasted your time, Mr. Dworkin,” 

“Randy,” he corrects, “And my point is this whole thing is a sick joke. You killed something that nine out of ten doctors would say wasn't alive.” 

“And what about the tenth doctor?” and that was the thought that haunted Rafael the most — he knew the smallest chance may be enough to convince a jury — it was enough to convince him he was guilty. No one was above the law, including him, guilty in his own eyes — in the eyes of the same god his mother had raised him to believe in. 

And yet here he sat. 

“Look, you wanna prove a point, and I wanna prove a point. It's what my nana would call the perfect shidduch,” Rafael raises an eyebrow, growing more weary of this conversation with every second. 

“What point do you wanna prove?”

“That the government's power has grown too damn much. That the bigger the government gets, the smaller it leaves the individual. That once the government takes away our right to die, it takes away our right to live,” he looks self-satisfied, leaning back in his seat, “How am I doing so far? 

Rafael’s jaw is set, “Well, for defending a murderer, not bad,” and Dworkin raises an eyebrow, shushing him dramatically. 

“Let’s keep that self-sacrificial guilt locked up, okay? Save it for your religious leader of choice,” Dworkin leans in closer, “I know you put in calls for defense attorneys — I know you don’t want to go to jail, and I know other people don’t want to see you take the fall for this.” 

“Other people?” he raises an eyebrow, and Dworkin seems to bite his tongue in the moment, a flicker of interest crossing his face, “did someone refer this case to you?”

“It’s not exactly a low profile nobody case, Barba — the story is splashed across half the tabloids and all over the news—” 

“But you just—”

“Let’s focus on getting you off first,” Dworkin tilts his head, “or did you forget that you’re on trial for murder?” 

Rafael wrinkles his brow, the question still nagging at the back of his head — a question mark at the end of a paragraph that lingered like an unspoken taboo he couldn’t place — but, Dworkin was right — right now, he couldn’t waste time. 

Time that he really didn’t have. 

“You didn’t tell me when I took this case that I was getting in between some doomed office relationship you conveniently failed to disclose before,” you didn’t realize this lunch Randy had invited you to involve an ambush — but you should have — it was Randy Dworkin. 

“I didn’t see how that was pertinent,” you shrug, picking at your food, “and it wasn’t a relationship.” 

“Puh-tat-o, puh-tat-toe — it’s still a cow if it moos, no?” he snorts, shaking his head, “it’s only pertinent when I almost let it slip that you were the one that referred the case to my attention.” 

That gets your attention, head snapping up, “And you?” 

“Masterfully avoided the question — I have excellent evasion skills — the fact that I never had a career in the C.I.A. should be criminal,” he looks up from his food, a shit eating grin on his lips, “It wasn’t hard — he has a lot more on his mind right now.” 

“I can only imagine,” you murmur, your brow wrinkled as you stabbed a fry with your fork, appetite woefully gone. 

“Your face will freeze like that,” and you scoff. 

“And yet I’ll still look better than you,” he laughs at that. 

“I always told you that you should have come and worked for me out of law school, instead of going to the D.A.’s office,” he wipes his lips with his napkin, “maybe you wouldn’t have fallen for this schmuck—” 

You raise an eyebrow, “He’s not—” 

“Still supportive? Even after the way he treated you—” and you gape at him, “you know that rumors get around — the community is small and people talk as much as they listen — it’s an incesteous cesspool of heathens,” and he gestures to you and him, “look no further.” 

“Speak for yourself,” you grumble, cheeks burning, “I’m sorry what rumors?” 

“You don’t need to know, kid,” he shakes his head, “my question is more focused on the present — why do you still care?” 

“Because he doesn’t deserve to go down for this—” 

“And he probably wouldn’t either way, but why do you care?” 

“I don’t know, okay?” you snap, “I wish I did, but I don’t. But despite everything that happened — I don’t want to see him suffer. I don’t want him to go to jail,” your voice cracks ever so slightly, and Randy frowns at you, expression unreadable, “Call me an idiot, but I care — I can’t help it.” 

“Most times that’s an asset, counselor,” he leans forward, elbow on the table, “as long as you don’t let anyone take advantage of it — not again.” 

“I won’t,” you say softly, as the waiter comes over to hand over the check, helping to pack up the rest of your food to go,  “I never thanked you for taking the case.” 

“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” he smiles, handing over the server book, “you’re picking up the check.” 

“On the sole count of the indictment, murder in the second degree, we find the defendant, Rafael Barba — not guilty.” the foreman announces, and relief floods Rafael, all the same time that guilt does — the two emotions irrevocably tied — lifting him up and dragging him down — a balloon and an anchor. 

Dworkin claps him on the shoulder, “Congratulations, counselor, and you’re welcome. My bill is the mail.” 

“Thank you, Randy,” he shakes his hand, “really, I—” 

“Spare me the speech, okay? I appreciate it, but I was doing my job, just like you did yours,” he offers him a smile, “and besides there’s someone else you should really be thanking.” 

He frowns, “Who?” 

Your name leaves his lips, and Rafael blinks, “How the case got referred to me? That’s how,” he hadn’t heard your name in months, and yet the hurt of you leaving still felt fresh — a knife twisted in his gut, even as the flesh around it healed and scarred, the metal still stung the same as the day you left. 

Or rather, the day he made you leave. 

It was his fault — he knew that now. And maybe that was the point — to drive you away, to push you so far that there was no coming back. Self-destructive — self sacrificial just as Dworkin had called him — except he had sacrificed you instead of him. It should have been him — his fears, his worries, his walls — offered at the alter of your unconditional love. 

But he didn’t. He didn’t and he regretted it — but was regret enough? 

“Why are you telling me this?” and Dworkin shrugs, grabbing his briefcase with a sigh. When his gaze meets his again, it’s sharp as a jagged rock. 

“I don’t know honestly,” he licks his lips, “I still think you’re a schmuck, but I know certain other people don’t think so,” he sticks a hand in his pocket, “and if you do get another chance, don’t screw it up. Otherwise, there won’t be a defense attorney in town who will help you next time you screw up.” 

He leaves Rafael standing, dumbstruck. 

And what was he to do now — with his future open and empty, what was left and who did he want to share it with? 

And there was only one answer to that question. 

There was knocking at your door — incessant and irritating that forced you out of bed at 11:00 PM — the one night of week you were able to get to bed early. And part of you only hoped it was a murderer to put you out of your misery — but you knew even the murderers weren’t so polite as to knock. But then again, you could be surprised. 

But it wasn’t a murderer — at least in the eyes of a New York jury. 

It was someone much worse. 

And then it occurred to you — how did he know where you even lived— and then you groan, swearing silently under your breath. 

Fuck you, Randy. 

You lean back, head leaning back, staring at the ceiling, were you ready for this? Would you ever be ready for this? 

You unlock the door, opening it, “What are you doing here?” 

“Please, I know I don’t deserve it— I don’t deserve anything from you, but please let me talk,” his voice is soft, and fuck, it hits you in so many ways — his voice, his face, him — it’s overwhelming enough to hear him, but to see him here. It’s too much and not enough all the same — to see him and not touch him. 

But he placed this ravine between you, carved it with the shards of your heart, filled it with your tears, and it was his job to scale.

And it wasn’t your job to make it easy. 

“You don’t deserve it,” you wanted him to slip on the slippery crags of rock, you wanted him to cut his hands on the sharp edges of your bitterness, “so why should I listen?” 

“Because I love you—” and you scoff, “I know I don’t have any right to say that, but please, let me just talk,” and you know he’s not going anywhere, and despite yourself — despite not wanting to give him the chance he had for months and for years — you wanted to know, you wanted him to explain. You grit your teeth, stepping aside, shutting the door behind him, arms crossed. 

“You have two minutes,” 

He clears his throat, “First, thank you for sending Dworkin my way, I don’t think I would have gotten off—” 

“I didn’t let you in to be thanked,” you cut him off, “what do you have to say, Rafael?” 

He wavers for a moment, “I love you, mi amor, and I know I don’t get to say that or call you that, but I do, I really do,” his voice breaks, “I know I don’t deserve you — I think I knew that from the start, and maybe that’s why I didn’t treat you right. It’s not an excuse—” 

“And yet it sounds like one—” 

“I was wrong — I took you for granted, and I will spend the rest of my life making that up to you if you give me the chance,” Rafael steps forward, dropping to one knee and your breath catches in your throat. 

No. No. He wasn’t— 

“I love you, mi amor — from our first kiss I was lost in you already — so much so that it scared me — afraid if I lost you, I would lose myself too. I know we both put away criminals for a living, but I was never scared of dying — I was scared of losing you.” he shakes his head, “But it doesn’t scare me anymore. It doesn’t scare me because losing you was the worst thing to ever happen to me. And I don’t want to ever lose you again.” 

He pulls a ring from his pocket. 

Time slows as you stare at it — wondering if you blink that it would disappear from between his fingers. It still somehow glinted in the low light of your dimmers — as shiny as his eyes were as he gazed up at you. 

You had dreamed of this moment — far too many times — a time where Rafael would come around, finally see you for who you were, find the worth in you like the way you saw it in him. A sweeping moment where he would be down on one knee, asking for your hand, and it would be simple and perfect — but nothing is ever perfect. And nothing is ever simple. 

You cover your mouth, “Wh—” 

“Marry me,” he says, whispering your name with the reverence you had always wished he would, “I got the ring from my mom — she already gave us her blessing — she said I was an idiot for letting you in the first place.” he offers a weak smile. 

“Raf—” 

“Just let me finish, before you make a decision,” he licks his lips, eyes glassy, insistent in his words, as if he was hanging his life on each one, “Come away with me — we can start over, away from politics and baggage — find a place somewhere outside the city. You always said you wanted to open your own practice someday, have a family. We can do that, you and me together,” he builds this perfect life from scratch — and you see it — you saw it before: a house in the suburbs, a picket fence, and a family — you and Rafael, your hands intertwined, together, “We’ll make a home, I’ll find a job without crazy hours, we’ll go on dates, I’ll help you open your own practice. We’ll be together, like before—” 

“But we aren’t together, Rafael— we haven’t been for months,” 

“I know, I know—” 

“No, you don’t,” you step back away from him, scrubbing your hand down your face, “this isn’t a movie, you can’t break my heart and come back months later telling me you made a mistake.” 

“Mi amor—” 

“No, no ‘mi amor’ — not when you played with my feelings for years, not when you said no at every turn, not when you dropped my heart like it was glass and crushed it beneath the heel of your shoes,” you spit back, “I called Dworkin because I didn’t want you to go to jail — nothing more, nothing less.” 

You hear his heart breaking, “I love you—” 

“I don’t,” you don’t let him see the tears falling from your eyes, “I can’t do this again. I can’t uproot my life for someone who could change their mind tomorrow. You had your chance. You lost it.” 

“Don’t say that,” 

“I did,” you wipe away your tears, you’ve cried enough for him, “it’s over. I don’t know what else will make it clearer to you.” 

“Look at me, please, look—” and you whirl on him, and you see him on his knees still — “Tell me you don’t love me — say that you don’t. And I’ll leave.” 

“I don’t love you anymore, Rafael,” and you wished that your words were truer than they were — that those words didn’t hurt as much to say as they were to hear. But they did and they were. You wanted to hate him, you hated to have no inch of remorse, but feelings were always two fold — and with anger came passion, with sadness came joy, and with hate came love. And the lines blurred until they were no more. And as much as you wanted to hate him — you knew you didn’t. 

But you had to say that you did. 

Because you couldn’t do this again for him to change his mind again — your heart couldn’t take that. You didn’t deserve to take that. 

And there was nothing left to be said. 

He slowly rises from his knees, tucking the ring into his pocket, along with the broken pieces of his heart. 

You should let him leave without another word, you should let him leave without having to look at your face, you should let him leave — but a part of you doesn’t want to let go, a part of you doesn’t want to believe this will be the last time you see his face or hear his voice. 

But still you ask, “Are you leaving New York?”

He nods, “I am — I can’t stay here.” 

“Where are you going?” A part of you wonders if he’ll just ignore you, rush out of the door — let you wonder about his plans, wonder about him — but you know you’ll do that anyway. 

You find him softly smiling, unable to quite meet your gaze, and he steps towards you, slowly, allowing you the time and space to step away — but you don’t, you can’t — not when this may be the last time you can touch him — but it was your choice to have this be the last time. 

“I don’t know,” he replies, leaning forward slowly to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering only a moment, his fingers brushing your cheek, “but you don’t need to worry about that. Goodbye… mi amor.” 

“Goodbye, Rafael,” you whisper, unable to watch him leave — not again.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Can you do a one-shot where the reader was born in 1996 and she’s the daughter of Nikki Sixx and Brandi Brandt and is the bassist and songwriter of Wallows and is best friends with her bandmates Dylan Minnette, Braeden Lemasters, and Cole Preston and she helps 5sos write songs for the album Calm and starts dating Ashton and the fans go nuts (in the good way) with shipping?

Wallowing

ashton Irwin x wallows!reader / masterlist

warnings; references to sex, swearing, threats

“Come in babe.” You opened the door, inviting your boyfriend Ashton into your flat. He had been having a hard day at the studio, and had asked if it was alright if he came over. Of course it was, but he had got a warning prior to his arrival, that they would not be alone, and that if he wanted to clear his head, it was certainly not the right place.

“Fuck you, you’re supposed to be on my side man!” At the sound of Dylan, yelling at whom you supposed to be Cole, you pinched the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut as you welcomed your partner into your home sweet home. Out of all days, they had to be playing COD in your apartment today.

“Sorry bout that.” A light grimace filled your face, but instead of giving you criticism, Ashton simply laughed, following you through the apartment, as you tried to slowly pass behind your band mates who were occupying your living room.

“Not so fast young Sixx, get your well endowed ass back here.” A sigh fell from your mouth as you rolled your eyes at Braeden, pausing your movements as he turned to lean against the back of your couch to peer over at you. “We need to have a conversation little lady.”

Groaning, you threw your head back, smiling a small apology towards Ash. “We were going to go to my room, I’d rather just you guys play my PS4 without needing to interact with me face to face.”

“Would you rather he FaceTime you whilst you’re getting down and dirty, or stand there like a kid’s doll and allow him to pull at your arm?” Dylan mumbled, as you crossed your arms, Ash greeting your band mates as you moved towards the tv, reaching for the side button and turning it off.

“Y/n what the hell?” Cole half screamed, breaking loose as he was close to finally beating Minette and killing his gamer character. His hands flailed as he expected an answer, raising in the air as he held the remote.

“I could ask you the same thing Preston, so what’s the schtick that’s making you keep me here, in my own apartment?” He gulped as you enquired at him, raising your brow, as you leaned back into your partner who stood awkwardly behind you like a supporting shadow.

“Congrats on the album Irwin, it’s great to see our own band member aiding your band. CALM is sick, and she makes me feel the same, just in a different manner.”

“Stop being a salty little bitch would you?” You asked, smacking him on the upside of the back of his head. He rutted his head back, clasping the behind of his scalp with his palm, firmly turning back to cast an icy glare towards you.

This was the normal behaviour around here, you all enjoyed getting under each other’s skin. It was a sign of true friendship, that whilst sometimes still triggering some real annoyance, that made your bond of being band mates that much deeper.

They were doing the same thing to you now, speaking prolifically showering your boyfriend in compliments, to side swab you with cockblockery. In all honesty, whenever Lydia or another girl was on the premises, you returned the favour, though that did not your pulsating frustration decrease at all.

“I’m going to assume there’s a problem here. Are you sure now is a good time for me to be here?” Ash asked reassuringly, his gentle touch applying a loving presence upon your shoulder, making you smile despite the situation that was running through the discourse of your veins

You craved him, to feel his body atop, or under, or however else against your own. It was infuriating to endure how your band mates dragged their greeting to him out, all you wanted was to discard his and your own clothing, leaving it as a jumble of forgotten material on the floor whilst the pair of you were caught up in mess upon the mattress, limbs inclined to coil around each arch, and breaths long overdue and escaping into the air.

“It’s a good time for you overall pal, considering that your sales are sky high, taller than this one that is practically trying to hump your arm. No problems with your presence, except the fact that it’s turning little Brandi’s baby’s hormones into overdrive.” Braeden spoke, earning a guttural growl out from your throat, as your nostrils flared furiously at his words.

If you didn’t get on with it, then the Red Sea of the month would cause a flood that would stain your underwear. You’d have preferred to take action before that happened. “The work isn’t just on my shoulders loser, if you want a worldwide selling album, put in some elbow grease, instead of playing stupid games.”

“I’m good, and by definition that makes you stupid, because they belong to you.” He remarked, Cole chuckling and offering him a high five.

“I could just kick you out.” You promptly supposed, as Dylan messed around with his phone, surrendering to the game, as he ran his hand to define the ruggedness of his silvery blue locks.

“Band rules say no to that.” Braeden stated. “And Ash, feel free to replace this one, we could do a switch. You’re basically ready to move in together, so we wouldn’t have to go anywhere else to have rapid fire nights.”

“Do I even want to know what that is?” Your boyfriend asked, and you, without any thought or hesitancy, shook your head. He certainly didn’t need to know about that, it was, least to say, a mess.

There would be dares, and drinks, and tattoos put in the most awkward places with that artist set that you kept very far under your bed. It was a shock that Ashton hadn’t seen the word ‘narwhale’ on the heel of your foot, or maybe he did, and decided against saying anything.

“I put up with these idiots.” Dylan sighed, though as you whipped your head around, you saw that he was not speaking directly to any of you, instead, his

“He’s on fucking insta live.” Cole realised, leaving over to get his face in the mirroring of the stream, waving a hand to the fans that spewed hearts onto the corner of the screen.

“Prick.” You called Dylan out, watching as he laughed at your lack of amusement, and poised the self proclaimed camera towards you, also catching the person beside you in the view.

“Calm.” Ashton softly spoke, sending you a small and reassuring smile, which you were defeated to not permit the same in return

“Funny pun Irwin, but shut up.” You laughed, and shook your head, him finally catching onto what he had said.

“Yes that is the incredibly talented 5SOS member Ashton Irwin. I know right, what is he doing with us?” Cole read, watching as Dylan rolled his eyes at his band member’s behaviour, wanting to get his phone back, though his attempts were lacklustre.

“Or more specifically, her?” Braeden asks, walking behind the sofa and grasping him, dragging him closer to where the phone was propped in Cole’s hand, giving the fans a clear image of his face. “Is he joining the band?” He reads from the flood of comments. “I wish, but we don’t draw that much talent.

“Speak for yourself.” You groaned, walking closer, leaning your head over Ash’s hunched shoulder, releasing an awkward smile as he raised it, gently bumping your chin with the slope of his muscle. “Rude.”

“Where are you guys? Well, we’re at y/n’s apartment. She just got back and dragged this old slugger in off the streets. How charitable.” Cole spoke, smiling up at Irwin as he lightly punched his face, already too comfortable with his hovering presence.

“Why is he there? This one makes me laugh, quick shag, ain’t that right buddy?” Braeden thoughtlessly worded, his eyes going wide in an instant as the fans quickly tended to the realisation of what he had meant. “Fuck, oops I guess.”

To say that you were furious was an understatement; you could feel an ache in your hands, wanting to tear the idiot into dismal pieces until there was nothing salvageable left to fix.

“You guess?” Dylan snickers, covering his mouth with his hand whence he saw your murderous expression conquer features. It was vastly more terrifying than any anger you had ever portrayed, and he could feel the couch moving as Braeden turned, and squirmed from the sight.

“Lemasters, imagine your head on a stick. That is going to happen, when I get my hands on you, your gonna turn cold as I strangle the living shit outta-“ Ashton grabbed you, as your arms tried to grasp and throttle your band mate, flopping in the air, intently furious at his revealing slip up.

“I think imma go.” He bolted, and as you struggled out of Ashton’s grip, you ran after him, out your front door and through the modesty of your building.

“She forgot her key.” Ashton noted, coming around and sitting with the remaining pair on the sofa. “How one of you think it’ll take for them to return?”

“As long as it takes for her to kill him.” Dylan grasps his phone back, fluttering his gaze over the comments. “They’re kinda cute together, found my new OTP. Sorry Dylan and Lydia. Oh don’t worry, that’s fine, we gotta take what we get and currently y/n’s not getting any because we have a tendency to cockblock her.”

“It’s our duty as the men of the band.” Cole spoke, a scream reverberating through from the hallway, audible to those online that were watching the two worlds merging.

“I think she got him.” Ash said, smirking lightly, as he heard your voice bellow out in rage against the male. Yep, your band was messy, but his wasn’t much different. He could certainly get used to it.

[fizzysugarwater]

Uhhh no title for this one

This is just the product of my brain when I ask “What if Cole had had Enough of Jay skirting around his actual attempts at flirting and passing them off as him trying to get with Nya, and got fed up with him and at the ToE duel just kissed him on the moUTH-” Enjoy!

A/N: I use fessin’ as a ninjagan version of frickin bc I physically cannot imagine jay saying frick, but he doesn’t swear in this so. also fessin sounds like someone tryna pronounce FSM phonetically (which is a thing I’ll talk about in my ninjagan expletives hc post in the near future)

Out on the hexagon tiles of Chen’s arena, Jay felt a strange kind of aching in his chest. A tugging, sinking feeling. Like somewhere in his heart he didn’t want to be fighting Cole.

And he didn’t! Not like this. Sure, he was still mad about seeming to have lost Nya to him, but there seemed to be more to it than that. He had… small inklings, that his and Nya’s breaking up was due to grief, the toll Zane’s death had on all of them. The longer he thought about it, the more he figured it was mostly grief, the rest being dysfunction on his part. Losing Nya was his fault, Cole had nothing to do with it. But Jay wasn’t ready to face that, so he kept blaming Cole. 

But… he didn’t want to do this. He didn’t wanna fight him for the right to keep his powers, he didn’t wanna fight him to settle a score, he didn’t wanna fight him at all! Fessin’ hell, it was easier to hate him from a distance. Now, here? His heart kept aching for him. For… Cole.

Jay didn’t recall much of how the fight played out in the early beats. Just throwing earth and lightning around, and yelling at each other. Even when he was fighting with all he had, Cole seemed to have this hesitance about him. Nothing like when they were sparring, or when Jay watched him kick ass against a common enemy. Against him, Cole hesitated. And seemed to grow more agitated with every word out of Jay’s mouth.

Eventually he reached a breaking point. Cole looked mad, like right pissed, and he managed to get close enough to pull a stunt Jay never expected. This part he remembered vividly.

“Okay, fine. Fine!! You wanna know why I’m mad about this still, sparkmouth??? You REALLY wanna know?!” Cole shouted at Jay, having him backed practically against the wall with stalagmites on either side. Jay kept his fists up, not sure what Cole was about to do. Of course, there wasn’t much he could do when Cole outclassed him on a purely physical level. The earth ninja grabbed the front of his shirt and lifted Jay off his feet, slamming him into the wall. Jay yelped in surprise and pain, and for a second he caught sight of Cole’s glaring face, filled with a kind of meaning Jay wasn’t expecting. His breath would’ve hitched, if something else hadn’t happened not a moment later.

Cole kissed him. 

He fessin’ kissed him, and the kiss filled Jay’s senses all at once. Maybe it was the exertion they had both been doing but it was… warm, in a good way. Soft, too. Cole’s eyes were shut tight, while Jay’s were wide open, too shocked not to. A loop of WHAT WHAT WHAT kept playing in his brain, and he felt his whole face go red, all the way to his ears. The most jarring part of this was his desire to return it, to kiss back. I mean, sure, Jay may have had ridiculously strong feelings for Cole back during those couple of weeks when it was just them at the monastery! Sure, those feelings may have never actually subsided and he had to catch himself months later to stop staring at Cole when he was training in the courtyard and just looking - yknow. Hot. Sure, this moment being as confusing and fantastic as it was may have sprung those feelings back full force, and Jay really, really wanted to make out with this dumbass for like, another five minutes. Maybe so.

What was happening again? Oh yeah. Jay was being kissed, hard, by the guy he never got over. In the middle of an arena. Oh yeah, we’re supposed to be fighting. And people are seeing this. Oh hell, Kai and Lloyd are seeing this too!

Finally, Cole pulled back, still pinning Jay to the wall, and Jay sucked in a breath, realizing that he wasn’t even trying to breathe there. He glanced up at Cole after a second, absolutely bewildered, and was met with a red-faced gaze from a normally-stoic, suddenly embarrassed master of earth, staring back at him with so much meaning.

“That is why, Jay. That is why I’m still mad,” Cole said breathlessly. And despite the thousands of thoughts running through Jay’s head, one managed to slip out.

“Huh??? That doesn’t explain a thing!” Jay blurted out. Cole’s eyebrows shot up and he looked something like a deer in headlights, blinking at Jay and turning even redder.

“Uh-“ Cole choked out, like he was a little surprised that his kissing skills didn’t convey the meaning he wanted. He didn’t get the chance to say anything else, because a frustrated groan sounded from above them in the stands. Chen was clearly very upset with this turn of events, and Jay was subconsciously offended. Excuse you, we’re having a moment here!

“Ughhhhhhhh, you’re supposed to be fighting each other!!!!!” Chen smacked his chair buttons a bit and glared down at the pair of them. “Send in the Condrai Crushers! That will get them fighting again!”

A door opened up in the wall of the arena, and Cole promptly dropped Jay and whirled around, cursing under his breath. Jay landed on his feet, and was looking to where Cole was as two large vehicles rolled out into the pit, both outfitted with extremely sharp implements. Jay’s breath caught, and before he had a chance to react Cole grabbed him by the wrist and dashed away from them.

“Wh- Hey!” Jay protested, wrenching his arm out of Cole’s grip and running to keep pace with him. “This conversation isn’t over, boulderbrain! What the hell was that supposed to mean?!” Cole glanced at him, then groaned slightly, skidding to a stop and whirling around to face the crushers again, stamping hard on the tiles and kicking up a large rock at one of them. Then he turned and looked at Jay, brow half-furrowed.

“The reason I’m still mad with you is because you still think I’m trying to take Nya from you or some bullshit like that. Even after every master-damned hint I keep shoving in your face!” Despite the situation he let out a dry laugh and pushed hair out of his face. “It is honestly baffling how you can be so ridiculously, beautifully smart and also so stupid at the same time!”

“Huh???” Jay squeaked. “I- wha- beautifully smart???” Wow, way to go that THAT’S what we latch onto. He shook his head out to clear his ears, then heard the thrum of the motor of the other crusher, behind them and dove sideways into Cole, knocking them both to the center. Once there, he stood up and kept talking. “So you’re not...?”

“OF COURSE NOT!! Fuckin hell, Jay, I never had any interest in Nya like that! She’s my workout buddy, but that’s it!” Cole pushed his hair off his face again, and shook his head. Jay couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“B-but I thought- th-the soulmate machine-“

“Was a prototype, and a tourist trap kind of attraction and I don’t know why you trusted it! Seriously, I still don’t get how you trusted that thing over me.” Cole chucked another boulder at one of the crushers, flipping it over. He turned back to Jay with just this nervous smile that made Jay’s heart flutter. The lightning master stuttered, trying to figure it all out.

“So then- it was- wait, it was me? You’re in love with me?” Jay finally put the pieces together. Cole just lit up once Jay admitted he figured that out, a bright grin plastering onto his face, and then they jumped apart into spinjitzu to dodge before joining up again. Cole grabbed both of Jay’s shoulders and kept grinning, a frankly adorable look.

“YES! Jay, you stupid gorgeous bastard, yes it was you! It was you the whole time! Still is, actually!” Cole looked almost like he was gonna cry, cry happy tears at least. Jay looked rather flabbergasted.

 Admittedly, Jay was still figuring this out, because what???

The whole time? The whole time, when Jay thought Cole was interested in Nya, Cole was in love with… him? With Jay? It felt like something out of a cheesy rom-com. Or one of his daydreams. The fact that he had to make this realization while dodging out of the way of a very sharp vehicle did not help matters.

Jay was suddenly wrenched out of his thoughts when he realized the remaining crusher was coming right at them. He had to act fast, so he dashed at the wall, ran up and sprang off of it, landing behind the driver of that one. He then proceeded to fry the living daylights out of the driver, until he was incapacitated and the thing came to a stop, just in front of Cole.

Jay hopped off again and came right up to Cole, mind spinning. He may not have had everything together, but he did have something he needed to do, to at least tell him without telling him.

“Are you serious with this? Are you genuinely, actually serious about this, Cole?” About me? Jay didn’t add. He looked up into Cole’s eyes, trying to convey about the same meaning to him as he was earlier. Cole froze, for a second all deer-in-headlights again, but then nodded.

“Yes I mean it. I am seriously in love with you,” he said, with all the conviction in the world. Jay looked up at him, took a small breath, then popped up on his tiptoes and kissed him.

In all honesty, this kiss was far shorter than the earlier one. It was small, and sweet, and soft (fessin’ hell his lips were soft) but it got the point Jay wanted to make across, clear as day. He cupped Cole’s face for a short moment, then dropped back down to his feet and was met with a rather starstruck look from Cole, to which Jay couldn’t help but smile. He almost didn’t register the audience they were still before, offering an “awww”, before he heard it drowned out by the whining of Chen.

“... okay, good, glad we got that squared aWAY-“ Jay started to say, before the floor tile he was standing on suddenly dropped out from under him. He yelped, but was very quickly grabbed in a bear-hug by Cole, keeping him from plummeting. With a start, Jay realized the arena floor tiles were disappearing into a pit at a rapid rate. “Crap, Cole!! The Jade Blade!” He pointed up at the knife stuck into the top of the central pillar.

Cole seemed to be on the same wavelength as Jay again, and holy crap was that a feeling Jay missed. “Cmon!” Cole barked, grabbing Jay by the hand and starting to dash forward to the center pole again, hopping from tile to tile as they dropped. Jay tried for a second to ignore his heart fluttering again when Cole gripped his hand - jeez I’ve really got it bad - and instead yelped in fear when he let go for a fleeting moment and got cut off by the ever-increasing pit. Separated now.

Cole whipped around for a second, eyes full of worry. Jay frantically shook his head. “Go, go!” He yelled, and Cole hesitated another beat before turning back around and sprinting for the pillar, then climbing it, then-

Once the blade was pulled the tiles stopped falling. For a very short moment it went quiet. Then Jay caught sight of something hurtling to him and he caught it on instinct. And then he looked down at it in his hands and-

What?

The Jade Blade. It was the Jade Blade, and he was holding it. Jay’s eyes darted back up to see Cole at the top of the pillar, looking down at him with a look of determination.

“WINNER!” Chen’s voice rang out over the announcement but Jay wasn’t processing it, still looking at Cole. Cole gave me the win. Why? He knows what happens when he loses, and I lost! What is he-

“Jay it’s gonna be okay, you hear me? We’ll figure it out. I want you to keep going,” Cole spoke up, landing back on the arena floor several feet away. He looked pained, but he was smiling all the way through it. There was an ache in Jay’s chest again, for Cole. “You keep going, zaptrap, and you win this thing for both of us, okay?”

“Cole, I- wh- we can’t just leave it like this!” Jay found himself blurting, frantic and scared. This CANNOT be how this goes, I barely even got time to get into it! The whys, the since-whens, all of it!

“You’re gonna be alright, Jay! I’ll see you. I’ll see you on the other siIDE!” Cole’s last word was cut off, as he was suddenly dropped into the pit below the arena. 

Jay could’ve screamed because it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair that they didn’t have any time to talk about this. He wanted to talk, he wanted to tell him all these reasons why he was so hopelessly in love with him and for a brief moment he was scared he’d never get the chance, now.

Instead, he just found himself reaching for the spot where Cole fell, feeling tears pricking at his eyes as the door in the wall opened again and Chen’s men ushered him back through to the others.

It shouldn’t be ending like this.

[jawsofhakkontranscript]

Where Once We Walked

Side quest: Where Once We Walked

Characters involved: Ameridan (memory)

Inquisitor Ameridan has granted the current Inquisition access to his final memories. Retracing his steps will offer insight into the former Inquisitor's life.

(The dialogue from this quest has been transcribed by u/whiptrip on Dragon Age subreddit, so credit goes to them.)

[1] Memory at the beach.

Ameridan: I dislike being so far from home. Halamshiral needs me. The darkspawn have grown stronger. Some of my brothers would let those creatures destroy Orlais. They think Drakon no better than the Imperium. But if we do not stand with the humans against the darkspawn, we might lose everything we have gained. I will fight this Avvar-dragon for you, Drakon... and then we shall drive back the darkspawn together.

First additional comment:

Cassandra: But he died here... and the elves ignored the Second Blight as it spread across Orlais. So began the animosity that led to the destruction of the Dales.

Dorian: If the elves had helped Orlais during the Second Blight, Orlais might not have turned on them later.

Vivienne: If the elves had not ignored the Second Blight, relations with Orlais might never have soured. Orlais and the Dales might never have gone to war.

Solas: But he never returned... and the elves of the Dales ignored the Second Blight. Less than one hundred years later, that hostility turned to war and the elves lost their homeland again.

Second additional comment:

Blackwall: The Jaws of Hakkon failed to destroy the lowlands, but their dragon did lead to the end of the elves.

Iron Bull: So the ancient Hakkonite asshole didn't destroy the lowlands like they wanted, but they did get the elves.

Varric: (Grunts.) Looks like the Jaws of Hakkon indirectly destroyed the Dales.

Sera: Pride-cookies. Frigging again.

[2] Memory at the Tevinter cavern.

Ameridan: If I must go to the end of Thedas itself for Drakon, I am at least glad to have friends at my side. Telana and Haron have been arguing about Haron using the lyrium to fight demons. Some things never change. Orinna has a new alchemical trick she wants to try. Like pitch or tar, but stronger. A recipe straight from Orzammar. They argue, fuss, and mock each other mercilessly... and I would be lost without them.

Additional comments:

Solas: The more things change...

Cassandra: A dwarf getting on someone's nerves... I can't imagine.

Dorian: Yes, what's that like?

Varric: This Orinna sounds like good people.

Sera: Different and spitting, but still trying. Learn those lessons, now-people.

Vivienne: Every age has those destined for greatness, it seems.

Iron Bull: Sounds like the old Inquisitor could've used someone bigger up front.

Blackwall: Let us hope we fare better than they did.

Cole: They were happy. Then dead, but this is still here.

Memory at the Tevinter ruin.

Ameridan: We have a plan. Haron and Orinna will lead the Avvar elsewhere, so Telana and I can deal with the dragon. My spirit companion believes we can seal the dragon away, even if we cannot kill it. It is less clear whether I can do so without sealing myself in as well... but I have little choice. This beast will wreak devastation across Orlais unless we stop it now.

First additional comment:

Cassandra: No one ever knew. Their heroism was lost to history.

Dorian: He saved all of Orlais from the Avvar, and no one ever knew.

Vivienne: What extraordinary courage. A pity history forgot them.

Varric: It's a damn fine story. Shame nobody found it 'til now.

Second additional comment:

Solas: He did not do it for recognition. He did it because it was necessary.

Blackwall: Heroism shouldn't be about fame. It's about doing what's needed, no matter the cost.

Cole: It doesn't matter that no one remembers. What matters is that they helped.

Sera: People-people don't do things so you know them. Good on him.

[3] Memory at the shrine.

Ameridan: I prepare now for my final battle against this dragon of the Avvar. All is in place. I offer thanks to Ghilan'nain, Halla-Mother, and to Andraste, Maker-Bride. As you were raised up from mortal men to stand with our Creators, our Makers, so raise me up now to defend this world.

First additional comment:

Sera: Ohhhh, he's one of those. Elfy-elves don't like that these days. Or anything.

Cassandra: Inquisitor Ameridan, who helped bring the Inquisition into the Chantry, built a shrine for the Maker and the elven gods.

Vivienne: He prayed to both Andraste and the elven gods? What a quaint idea.

Blackwall: The Inquisitor honored both the Maker and the elven gods.

Iron Bull: He made a shrine for the human gods and the elven ones. You don't see that much these days.

Second additional comment:

Cole: "They're not so different, Drakon. Just another pair of boots to walk the same road." He doesn't see, wants it simple, but I can help him get there. There's room for both.

Varric: Belief is a funny thing. An elven Inquisitor must have had a careful path to walk. (If the Inquisitor is an elf) Still does, I suppose.

Dorian: You had something similar in ancient Tevinter. People kept the holidays but renamed them for the Maker. So instead of celebrating Andoralis at the start of summer, you have Summerday, and it's about the Maker.

Solas: It's a rare mind that has room to honor both beliefs equally.

[4] Memory on the Lady’s Rest island.

Ameridan: Telana, my love. I should not have asked you to come with me, though I know you would not have stayed behind. You are a Dreamer, and this dragon the Avvar have tamed carries a demon inside it. I can see how its presence hurts you. You should be at Halamshiral, reminding our people of our alliance with Drakon. Not here, risking death again with me. Still, in the old tongue, your name, Telanadas, means "nothing is inevitable." I will remember your name and hope.

First additional comment:

Solas: Ameridan was correct. The presence of such a powerful spirit would have caused a Dreamer like Telana immeasurable pain.

Dorian: A Dreamer like Telana would have been sensitive to demons. This spirit of Hakkon would have caused her a great deal of pain.

Vivienne: Dreamers are said to be sensitive to the presence of demons. I imagine this Hakkon demon caused Telana significant pain.

Cassandra: Dreamers are said to be sensitive to demons. A creature like Hakkon would have caused Telana terrible pain.

Second additional comment:

Iron Bull: More pain than watching her husband and all her fighting buddies get killed?

Varric: No more pain than watching everyone she loves die, I imagine.

Cole: Too bright, blinding, breaking, broken. "Get to safety. I will seal us both away. It's not forever. Come back with aid." But her leg was broken. She could only lie down and try to see him one last time.

Sera: It hurt the Inquisitor too. You can tell because he took so long to say "she died."

[jay-cult]

Static and Stars: Episode 1 - Jay Day

Index

Jay and Nya haven’t been on a date in like... ever. So when they finally do go out on their own, some unexpected memories catch up with them.

AUTHOR’S NOTES:   Hey guys! At long last, S&S continues. I hope it hypes you up just like it does me! I was planning this for OC Day when I realized that it actually didn’t have any of my OCs in it (yet) so I’m happy to throw it out now.   This episode is quite guiltily Jaya-centered but PLEASE understand that it will be the only one. I laid out my plan for this fan season and I liked it, so I’m following through with having it kick off like this. This is a Jay fan season. Not a Jaya fan season. Thank you!

-

  A patronizing BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! rang out beside Jay.

  He groaned and sat up, hair messily flying all over his face. He slammed his hand onto where the sound was coming from, but found he slapped the smooth surface of his phone. He let out another grunt while the alarm was still judging him.

  He shot out a small current through his fingertips and the beeping stopped. Right… he forgot. They weren’t in the Bounty anymore.

  Jay climbed out of his sleeping bag and looked to his right, where Kai, who had just awoken, was trying to quickly rearrange his bed hair. Further past him, Cole was still sound asleep.

  Kai noticed that he was still as a rock and, mid-hair-fixation, kicked him hard.

  “Ow! Dad! Fine, I’ll get ready for dance practice-“ Cole jerked awake and then looked at Kai scorningly.

  “This sucks,” Kai groaned. He plunged his arms into his “hygiene” kit and pulled out a hairbrush, some cologne, and a bit of blush fell out.

  Jay stood up (while making sure his plushie stayed safely tucked in his sleeping bag) and smiled. “Aw come on guys, it’s not that bad!” He said, stretching.

  “Whatever you say,” Cole sighed, tying his hair up in a bun.

  In full pajamas, Jay exited the tent. Outside it was full sunlight, with shadows of leaves dappling the ground. He gazed at Ninjago City in the distance; it looked so much quieter from the outskirts.

  Zane was already outside making a meal for breakfast. He slept outside. Jay didn’t see the appeal, but he said that it was better for him to be out with the stars and one with the (mild) wilderness.

  “Good morning, Jay.” He smiled with ease. “You should really wash those gloves.”

  He took a look at his hands. “Funny coming from you, ya barely change your clothes,” he playfully argued, knowing already it was a useless excuse. Zane sat there in full gi wear and looked up.

  “I do not have the rather disgusting human body which pollutes cloth,” he responded simply.

  “Any updates on how the monastery is going?” Jay asked, changing the subject.

  “Indeed!” He flipped a pancake with a spatula. There was a whole contraption set up so that Zane could do his thing, even outside. “I have been notified that it is going smoothly.”

  Jay nodded. He sat on a cushioned log. “I’m still so glad it’s over.”

  “The First Realm was certainly a tiring event.”

  “Yeah, and Garmadon… that fight was insane, huh?” Jay scratched his head. He was grateful that even with this makeshift living situation, they could rest.

  “You don’t even know the half of it.”

  The two ninja looked up. Nya was strutting toward them, tying up her hair casually. Unlike Jay, she had already gotten dressed.

  “Nya!” Jay brightened up, even more energized from the sight of his girlfriend. The morning sun made her look quite phenomenal. She sat down by him, very close, physically. Zane’s (literal) inner timer dinged, and he stood up. “Breakfast is ready!”

  At that moment both Kai and Cole rushed out of the tent, still very unready. Kai’s hair was half-done, his arm through just one sleeve of his jacket, and he was still pulling up his pants. Cole had yet to do much. He was just running out with his pajama pants on, and… that was it.

  “What were you guys doing?” Jay asked.

  “Shut up,” Kai said immediately, his eyes suddenly very focused on the pancakes that were now out and ready.

  They all sat in their eating area on the cushioned logs in their circle beside Zane’s cooking tools and contraptions. It was a very average day, at least, for one where they had to camp together without a strong shelter and where they had nobody to fight anymore. But there were obviously some things missing.

  Nya turned to Jay. “Well,” she shrugged, “Lloyd and Wu are off on their things.”

  “As they have been for a while, making their own camp in Misako’s space,” Kai interjected, eyes narrowed. “Meanwhile we have to make it out here, in the wild, the cold-”

  She ignored him. “And we have nothing going on, finally. So.. well… we haven’t really done much recently. And you were off in the realm for…. A while.”

  Jay swallowed a chunk of bacon. “Right! How long exactly has it been since we’ve done something, just you and me, that didn’t involve snake venom or the fate of the world?”

  She looked at her paper plate of food, thinking. “Like. Never?”

  “Yeah.” He chewed more, a bit unbelieving. They’d only ever done fun things with at least one person from the team or when a villain was on their tail. Or if it was work or training.

  “We have never really had a normal date, like, at all, have we?” She looked straight at him, making her point.

  “Okay, today is perfect!” Jay finished the last of his meal happily.

  “Alright, you guys, calm down,” Kai stood up, smirking. “I know that must mean you’re all very new to this, so if you’d like to ask the master-”

  And then Cole just straight up picked Kai up. He just yoinked him from off the ground and slung him over his shoulder. He turned toward the pair, genuinely smiling. “Hahah, he’s one to talk. Come on buddy.” As he carried him back to the tent, Kai let out yells of protest, but it was nothing against Cole’s strong hold.

  Zane smiled. “You enjoyed your meal, I hope?”

  “Breakfast was great, Zane,” Nya commented, laughing.

  “I guess this means we’ll finally have a day all to ourselves,” Jay winked, standing up. “I’ll devote this day to being Nya Day.”

  She winked back. “And I, Jay Day.”

  “Let me just go put on my clothes first.”

 -

  The wind of the mountains blew fresh through the couple’s hair. Jay had dug through his bag to try and salvage what he could of the nicest clothes in there and had just barely scraped out a clean look. He’d stepped back outside, surprised to find Nya in a brand new, somewhat formal outfit.

    “Oh,” she had said, reddening a bit. “Maybe I should go get that other stuff back on.”

    “No! No,” he’d interjected immediately. “You look really nice.”

    Now they were climbing down the rocky side of a steep mountain that led down to Ninjago City from their camp. Or, well, they weren’t exactly- their hybrid elemental dragon guided them down slowly, walking so as to not be easily detected.

    “Where are we going?” Jay asked from his spot behind Nya, who had the reins.

    She glanced at her boyfriend quickly with a sly smile. “You’ll see.”

    Jay grinned and kept his silence for a little while. But inside his thoughts were racing quite a bit. He felt tense and nervous- and not because of the date. It was all so familiar. Too familiar. Sitting behind Nya, holding onto her... the feeling of the dragon’s spine beneath him and the thrum, thrum of what was the dragon walking but what his brain turned into the panicked beat of wings. His thoughts wandered through that old experience and he wanted it to stop. But he decided not to say anything.

    At the edge of the city they, to Jay’s relief, put away the use of their dragon and grabbed a ride from a surprisingly mellow fan who was happy to provide service to the “folks who’d saved the city’s ass more than once.” Nya whispered the destination into his ear and he chuckled. “Well y’all enjoy your time, n’.”

    “Shut your eyes, boltbrain,” Nya pleaded, trying to hold back a laugh.

    “I wanna see, though,” Jay whined with a smile, trying to swat her hands away. She was reaching from her spot in the passenger seat of the car.

    He (eventually) complied and they stepped out onto what felt like some concrete. Jay heard the car drive away.

    “Okay,” Nya giggled, sounding slightly embarrassed. “You can look.”

    Light flew into his eyes as he shot them open. He blinked a few times and observed the building in front of him. It was a fairly average-looking concrete building on the outside, but the windows were plastered with 80s-themed patterns, stickers, and paint. He gazed up at the sign that marked the building, which read in bright neon letters, “Ninjago Roller Rink.”

    He turned to his girlfriend with a shy smirk. “Nya, what is this?”

    “Okay, okay, so. It looks a bit run down. But I remember that you were into roller skating as a kid. So I just thought-“

    He pulled her into a tight hug, his excitement growing. “This is awesome! Let’s go!”

    He tried to rush to the door, but Nya got there first and held it open for him. “Ladies first,” she said.

    “Ha-ha,” he joked, unable to hide his grin. They stepped confidently into the building.

    The floor, cheap carpet with an 80s pattern, stretched out beneath them. There were party tables all around them, broken up by counters on the side of the right wall selling the snacks and roller blades. And on their left down a ramp, in all its glory, was the large wooden rink with a disco ball hanging above it. Popular 80s music played but it was barely heard among the conversations of the many people in the building.

    The couple got stares as they entered, but they were too excited to care too much. They rented their skates and set off towards the rink.

    They stepped out onto the floor and the rink suddenly cleared. Bunches of people crowded around the edges to watch two ninja in fancy clothes do normal people stuff.

    While Jay eased on Nya stepped on immediately, and almost fell to the floor but grabbed hold of the edge just in time. She looked surprised.

    “You’ve never done this before, huh?” Jay questioned, sympathetic.

    She shook her head, blushing. “I didn’t know it was that difficult.”

    “Well it’s not, once you learn. Here, let me show you.” He held out his hand.

    She grunted but took hold of it.

    A scene flashed in Jay’s brain. He was forced to remember. The rooftops of the tall, wide building of the city stretched before him, and he felt a feeling of dread, the intrusive thought that this was where it started. He dropped her hand suddenly.

    “Jay? Are you okay?” Nya asked, worried.

    He took her hand again quickly. “Yeah,” he lied. “Just a little nervous, I guess.”

    He took her along the walls of the rink, guiding her with his words. But all the while, he was wondering what had happened. It’s not like it was the first time they’d held hands, of course. So why get so heavily reminded of that now? He was fooling himself. He knew the answer. None of the other ninja were around. Just like… he shook his head. No, stop Jay, you’re literally on a date, he told himself.

    They were eventually off of the walls together, rolling slowly and steadily around the rink. Since it was empty, there was no need to go in the required circles, so they freely went where was best.

    “Alright,” he said gently. “I’m gonna let go now.”

    She looked at him, panicked. “Wait! Don’t!”

    Jay gave her a serious look. “I’m going to, okay? Are you ready?”

    She paused for a second and then nodded.

    “You sure?”

    She nodded again.

    “Go!”

    With a gasp from the crowds, they let go together and Nya rolled ahead. She picked up her pace as they cheered, feeling confident, and then promptly lost her balance and fell down in a tangle of girl, skates and kimono.

    “Nya!”

    She punched the ground. “This is never going to work!”

    Jay frowned. “Don’t say that, you’re doing real good! Look,” he brightened up a bit, “next time I’ll wait until you really want to do it yourself.”

    Reluctantly, she nodded, and took his outstretched hand again. As he pulled her up the music turned to a certain kind of song. An incredibly sappy, incredibly overly fitting song.

    “Oh.” As Jay scratched the back of his head, getting all red, the crowds murmured in wondrous anticipation. He looked around and saw the guy behind the counter put his phone down with a wink. “I guess this isn’t really what you expected,” he told her nervously.

    “It’s cool,” she shrugged, smiling. “Besides, I wanna show you off.”

    He chuckled. “I wanna show me off, too.”

    And then it became perfect.

    Nya picked up the skating incredibly quickly and was able to do very well by herself after just a few seconds. They rejoined at certain points and laughed. When he caught gazes from the crowd, Jay did some age-old skating tricks from way back, rousing several cheers. He always looked back at Nya wherever she was, who was always sporting a proud smile. It was foolish. It was childish. It was fantastic.

    But their finish wasn’t as strong at all.

    They met up towards the end of the song and started to feel something deep in the memories of their bones. Deep in their roller dance, they didn’t think and posed in a way they’d done before- in a fight. Like an instinct of feel-good thrill, they posed, and Jay suddenly gripped his head and fell to the floor.

    It was dark and they were on top of a shining tower. Maybe they might’ve been able to hear the sounds of the black ocean, just maybe, if not for the cries and shouts of leader-blinded, bloodthirsty pirates. They were back to back, their swords drawn, fighting off the swarms of their enemies that no longer even existed within their realm. Jay thought of the lighthouse and this time he couldn’t stop.

    “Jay!” Nya gasped, and the crowd let out shouts of concern. He was brought back to reality with their noise- somehow not hers. He was breathing heavily, still on the dirty wooden floor.

    “I can’t…” he was almost okay when the music switched to something that bored into his brain. He’d never heard it before but it was saying things that couldn’t be unheard.

    “We’re alone together, in a familiar place.”

    He couldn’t stand it.

    “Waves beat upon the rocks and moonbeams shine upon your face.”

    It was pop and terrible but it still existed, and as Jay continued to fall in and out of reality he felt himself being hoisted from the floor by someone strong. “Let’s get you some water… ‘SM, this music… c’mon, Jay…”

    Nya was leading him out of the rink and back onto the carpet, and in her hold he found himself back in the roller rink’s building- but not completely. She sat him down at one of the tables and left him staring at the ground for a moment. When she returned she put an opened bottle of chilled water right in front of him, and wearily, he took a few sips.

    A teenage girl from the crowds, who were now mostly filtering back onto the roller rink, shuffled up to them shyly. “Is the blue ninja okay?” She asked.

    “Yes,” Nya snapped, which quickly sent the girl scuttling away.

    “Better?” She asked, her voice edged with worry. Jay nodded. She sighed, smiling in relief. “That’s good.”

    “Oh, but I ruined it…” he groaned, staring at the top of the table.

    “Ruined what?” She asked, confused.

    “Our date…”

    Nya gave his hair a ruffle. “No ya didn’t. Let’s go talk about this over some lunch.”

-

    Twenty minutes later they were ordering their favorite dishes from Chen’s Noodle House. They sat along the edge of the kitchen and a familiar face decided to pop into their conversation.

    “I think I know what happened,” Nya answered after said familiar face asked.

    “Oh, what then?” Pushed Skylor, leaning in.

    “I just can’t get it out of my brain. Now that we decided to do something on our own, I guess,” Jay frowned, feeling absolutely terrible.

    “What?”

    “It’s difficult to explain,” Nya said quickly, before Skylor delved too deep into speculation.

    The redhead left for a brief moment to grab their food, and returned looking excited for a tale.

    Jay picked around at his noodles. “You’re not gonna believe me, but it’s a different timeline. That only Nya and I remember, I think. It involves a lot of evil pirates, and everyone being trapped in a sword, and Ninjago being in the sky. You were part of my ninja replacements,” Skylor gave him a weird look as he was mid sentence, “and Nya even…”

    He paused and dropped his chopsticks back in the tub. Nya stopped eating suddenly, and looked down, feeling sick.

    “Nya what?”

    “Nothing important,” Nya said, trying to force another bite of food into her mouth.

    “Well, hm,” said Skylor, looking a little put off, “sounds like you guys need to somehow sort this out.”

    “Yeah,” Jay stared at his food. “I know. You’re right. We have to stop pretending like it never happened. We have to think about it. Sort out all the lost… stuff from it.” He reached into a pocket to pull out his wallet, but Nya was there first, holding her card out to Skylor with a smile.

    She shook her head. “Today’s on me, ya crazy lovebirds. I just hope things are okay for you from now on.”

“Thanks,” said Jay with an exasperated sigh. “You’re a life-saver, Skylor.”

    “Well, where do we start, then?” Nya asked when Skylor left them, looking at Jay with some nervousness.

    He narrowed his eyes and gave one of his eyes a rub. “The lighthouse.”

[purplerose244]

Thinking journal for season 12 Prime Empire 😎😎😎 (2/2)

Here we go with the next part! I really hope we get some major big plot twist at some point, because it's all really cool but I need something to really change from good to GREAT

For now, let's focus on the next episodes!

It's the 17th of April and here we go!

GENERAL

I feel like there's little time to really pull up something, I don't know. Like, what plot twist could happen now that there just half season left with only Unagami/Dyer's identity and maybe Scott's past as mysteries? There's little space for more plotlines, that's what I think

Overall fighting scenes, character designs and game backgrounds are AWESOME!!

Let's see how it goes, maybe I'll be surprised. Wouldn't be weird for Ninjago to pull a bomb last episode 😅

ONE STEP FORWARD, TWO STEPS BACK

ZANE AND PIXAL FINALLY!!! IT'S DETECTIVE TIME!!! 😎

Okay, so there is a photo, and there is a friend. As I thought, Dyer might not be Unagami at all, I feel like there's a lot of backstory coming along. I wonder if Scott has a part in this... WHERE IS SCOTT 💙

Ah, of course Kai would spend his credits on an avatar, I should've known, my flame babe can be such a dummie sometimes I mean why would you even do such a thing as buying an avat-

NEVER MIND I LOVE IT 😍😍🔥🔥 I thought him being blonde was going to bother me, I actually kinda like the change. Still prefer my baby brunette, but it's really cool as well. The best of this season are definitely the characters designs

Was that "let's fight an ogre mission" a hint for next season? I wouldn't be weird, but it's been a while since I've seen forshadowing for new season in this show

HECK YEAH THE DANCING EPISODE!!! I was waiting for this, Jaya is so cute while they are on the dancefloor 😍 They have chemistry 😘😘😘

I like the implication that Nya was really bad at dancing before Jay, like Kai covering his eyes because he cannot handle her sister not being perfect at something 😛

And Cole being the dance expert, that little tango moment with Kai I bet made many lavashippers super happy 🖤❤🖤❤

THE TRIPLE TIGER SASHAY ALL THE WAY FROM SEASON 1-2 ABSOLUTELY YES YES YES!!! AND HE DIDN'T ROAR, HE STRAIGHT UP SAID "NO ONE PUTS COLE IN A CORNER" I'M DYING!!! With this and Nya's 'catch me', I expect so many Dirty Dancing AUs from this 😂👌

JAYA BEING AWESOME HECK YEAH ❤💙❤💙

JUST LOOK AT THEM!!! Nya better say I love you back soon, like Kai and Skylor are a little behind, Zane and Pixal already said it, Jay can't stop doing it, come on girl it's your turn! 😎😎

RACER SEVEN

SCOTT IS BACK YES!!! 😍😍😍💙💙💙

Okay, I think my theory won't happen 😅 Feels like there are not enough episodes for a good reveal, and it doesn't seem like Scott is that influenced by Jay. My last idea is that perhaps he has spent so much time in the game like Jay said (POOR BABY 😭) that he doesn't remember. Maybe the moment he will come back, we will find out that it is Jay's brother/twin, I mean he still has those dragon and lightnings drawing on his back... yeah I like this theory a lot, gonna hold on to it!

So Scott is indeed a person trapped in a game, at least that's confirmed 👍

Also he's got some major issues, the poor thing, and I think there is some special reason behind him not wanting to race besides having just one life.

HERE IT COMES

OH MY GARMADON 😂😂😂 Okay, okay, it's actually better than I expected really. The scarf is cool, and so are the golden tattoos, the suit and the golden sleeve. It's just the mohawk that will take time to get used to, it's not even bad, just weird 🤷‍♀️

Racer Seven is so cool! Always nice seeing a new female character in this show that is not a love interest. I do love Nya, Pix and Sky to death, but I love variety too 💪

Really, really nice the piece of all Racer Seven's crashes! Impactful and sad, a never ending loop that she wants to break through from. That's the heavy stuff I like!

Okay, ready for the race! And I'm... scared? Like, a lot of they guys have one life?? KAI HAS ONE LIFE?? 😱😱 I hope for the best I guess 😅

THE SPEEDWAY FIVE-BILLION

Might be my favorite episode yet

Seven is SO COOL, it's another reason why I'm sad these episodes are so short! I really would had liked see her more, truly have her bond with the guys

Soooo... I guess since Scott's been in the game for 30 years it's safe to assume he's not Jay's brother/twin. To be fair it's really hard to tell a LEGO person's age😅 At this point I guess he could be either Dyer's friend, even if it sounds unlikely, or... idk, still think he could have a connection with Jay. Maybe he's like... an older brother? Libber had him a long while ago?

NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! WHY DID SCOTT HAVE TO DIEEEEEEEE??? 😭😭😭 Just when he was getting more involved, come on! He even said he wanted to try that hero stuff, I love him! WE WILL SAVE YOU MY TECH BABY!!!

Cole getting a ride from Kai, this season has some pretty good lava material ❤🖤❤🖤

I've got some major Ninjaball Run vibes from this, that brings me back 😂 Even the no rules thing is there, come on, there has to be a little bit of inspiration from it!

Still don't know what I think of the rats, kinda seems useless and annoying, gonna be honest. But it's a nice race, exciting with nothing big happenin-

Kai and Cole sacrifice for Jay

I KNOW I THOUGHT ABOUT IT BEFORE BUT I'M NOT OKAY WITH THIS!!! MY FLAME BABE AND MY ROCKY BABY!!! 😭😭😭😭 WHY PEOPLE KEEP DYING IN THIS EPISODE???

I so, so enjoyed how they did it. Like, one look between them to realize that yes, this is it, Jay is the expert and needs to go on. This is the end of our race... AAAHHH!! (Infinite shipping potential too)

Omg Nya screaming her brother's name and Jay his best friend's name, while Lloyd looks so devastated (those masks are actually kinda espressive, I really like them). Wow. This is the angst I needed, finally👌

YES SEVEN WON!!! HECK YEAH GIRL!!! SO HAPPY FOR HER!!! Also Okino in the background being happy, nice touch!

And now they are three... it's gonna end up with only Jay huh. I... I'm not ready actually, my heart 😢 They better all hug when this is all over!!!

STOP, DROP AND SIDE ROLL

I CAN SEE THEY ARE KEEPING THE FEELS FOR LAST APPARENTLY??? 😭

The music of the old school section was actually very nice, reminds me of the past, I kinda hoped The Fold were going to release some game themed songs. Been a while since I have one of those 😍

Lol, explaining the side scroll games was actually pretty cool

YES THEY ACTUALLY ACKNOWLEDGED THE AIRJITSU!! Maybe they will remember they can used it, right Cole? The ladder scene? YOU CAN FLY???

OMG NYA ACTUALLY SAID CICLON-DO JUST HOW CUTE IS THAT!!! All the way from my favorite season Possession, Jay's definition of airjitzu that I actually still kept in one of my fanfictions 😂

Okay the design of the temple of madness is REALLY cool, you can immediately tell it's from an old videogame. Gives me the double vibe the googles for the first 3D movies used to give me 😂

Also look at this

THIS IS ADORABLE!! 💙💚💦 Really old style videogame 😂

And there we go!! Harumi!! Since I saw her in the set I was wondering what she was going to be, maybe an avatar or an NPC of some sort... THIS HURTS WAY MORE!!! And of course pure heart BABY boy Lloyd doesn't feel good fighting her, he had a crush on her! AND HE FREAKING SAW HER DIE!!! It's really sad that he still hopes for her to be good...

The fighting scenes are really, REALLY good! So fluid and active! This fight was really pleasant to watch, not gonna lie 💜

NOOOOOOOOO!!!! NOT MY GREEN BABY BOY!!!! I KNEW IT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN BUT STIIIIIIL!!! 😭😭😭

Okay, down to three members. Remaining Zaptrap and water godess... omg Nya will totally die first and at that point Jay will go completely nuts. I'm both scared and DYING TO HAPPEN!!! ANGST FINALLY!!! THIS IS THE STUFF!!

Got some major Skybound feeling, like when it was only Jay and Nya... will Nya finally say I love you back?? I HOPE SO ❤💙❤💙

With the three keytana now, what will happen? I'm actually curious now, this is the exciting stuff I need! And yes I do realize it's a little weird that for getting hype I need my faves to die 😅

NINJAGO CONFIDENTIAL

OMG THEY ACTUALLY DID A DETECTIVE THEMED EPISODE BLACK AND WHITE I'M DYING 😂😂😂

The Weekend Whip with sax, never thought I needed this in my life 😍

Bet Brent had a blast recording this

Okay this is the third Chima reference I see, they better throw some Nexo Knights hits as well next season! Come on, it's about freaking knights!!!

This is not what I expected when they said there was going to be an episode with only Zane and Pixal but I'm sure as HECK not complaining 👌

Oh, seeing Pixal joining in so normally is so beautiful, I really wish we could have her even more often

Dareth's karaoke bar! From Sons of Garmaron! Also him guessing first try because the ninja really do get post in other dimensions very often 😂 Gotta love them indeed

Pff Zane narrating and getting stopped every time because of it, how I missed this naive little nindroid

So the bartender Tony is the friend? That's it? A little easy really, hoped for more... still calling him Milty is cute 💕

Buddy's Pizza from season 2!!! This season is killing me with references and I LOVE IT SO MUCH 💜💜💜

So, the mechanic is free again (the Kryptarium dudes should really learn how to do their job right 😓), Zane is kidnapped, and Pixal has a fedora that makes her possibly even cuter. I have emotions

AH!! KNEW IT!! UNAGAMI IS NOT DYER!! FREAKING CALLED IT!!... kinda expected really, but still called it 😅

So Unagami was the first name of Prime Empire and is also an AI that got crazy and was shut down, but now is back after programming the game itself and wants to get to the real world?... I'm down with it

So I'm guessing we won't get much of a Scott backstory... Eh, let's see how it goes!

THE PRODIGAL FATHER

I was seriously confused by why those dudes wanted to kidnapped Wu, but it made sense later. Still come on sensei, you're a freaking half god or something, pull yourself together 🤦‍♀️

Very nice that Pixal is the one to bring up the argument about feelings and AI. So very nice to have her in this!!!

I THOUGHT ZANE WAS GOING TO TAKE A BREAK FROM LAST SEASON, WHY ARE THEY MAKING HIM SUFFER AGAIN??? 😭

Oh finally the backstory of Unagami I'm really curious about what happened in the past and what exactly brought the shut down of Prime Emp-

I LITERALLY CARE ABOUT NOTHING ELSE BUT THIS BEAUTIFUL GAMER BOY IN REAL LIFE!!! 😍😍😍😍😍

So Scott was the first beta tester, Milton asked Unagami to make the experience as exciting as possible, and that ended very badly so the game was shut down and THEY LEFT HIM INSIDE FULLY KNOWING HE WAS THERE??? I HATE DYER NOW!!!

Although it is really interesting knowing a tech genius like him, until now we got Dr. Julien and Cyrus Borg that were plenty open about the idea of AI with feelings as meaningful as humans'. While he doesn't get that, they are only machines for him and that's the reason why he doesn't understand how much Unagami is mad and filled with need for revenge.

This is why I want more than 11 minutes, the themes of this season are really, REALLY cool. I would have loved more introspection and development.

I guess Scott being Jay's brother is officially debunked 😅 Although I am curious about the life he left behind, since he was stuck in that game for 30 years. He still has those lightnings on the jacket I don't understand...

DON'T YOU DARE LET ZANE BE DESTROYED AGAIN PLEASE I STILL CRY WATCHING "THE TITANIUM NINJA"!!! 😢😢😢😢😢😢

The portal is open, Zane might get destroyed, Unagami wants revenge, Jay and Nya are the only one left and I'm pretty sure Nya will be killed as well leaving only Bluebell so there's THAT. So yeah, this is actually pretty cool!

Two episodes left. Okay Ninjago season 12 Prime Empire, wow me 😎

THE TEMPLE OF MADNESS

This felt a little simple if I'm gonna be honest. I felt like the last mission before facing Unagami was a little basic, with nothing really exciting. Still liked it, but this is probably my least favorite episode 🤷‍♀️

Of course, put Jay is a sushi restaurant-themed level and he will kill you with puns 😂 I love this prankster

Again, the fighting scenes are dope. Definitely one of my favorite things since they changed the animation. You lose something you win something 😙

Wooo, Jay saying that he had trained for years just for kick his butt was actually cool! Bluebell is unleashing!

"And that's how we roll!". You rock we roll, am I right 😂

AH!!! CALLED IT!!! TOTALLY CALLED IT!!! MY POOR BABY BLUEBELL 😭😭

I wish Nya said that she loves Jay back though! Freaking come on girl, he is your yang!!! ❤💙❤💙

Unagami is not Dyer, he wants to get to the real world, I'm actually kinda curious about the confrontation that is about to happen... ALSO THERE BETTER BE LOTS OF HUGS WHEN THIS IS OVER

I... genuinely forgot about the dragon medallion 😅 Eh, I love dragons so I'm fine with it. Well, let's see how it ends!!!

GAME OVER

Wow, I actually love this ending?? A LOT?? After last episode I didn't have much hope, but after seeing it I gotta say, it was really great 👌👌

Thanks for not dying on us again Zane, much appreciated

Jay taking charge is quite rare and when it happens you know things are about to get crazy 😂 It was really nice seeing how sensible he could be, telling that Unagami wasn't evil after all, that he needed closure and answers

I know I miss the animation peak we reached with SoG and Hunted, but I gotta say the atmosphere of the city with the lightnings and the gray sky was really awesome. Very cool.

Pff, that part with the elevator though, reminds me of the one in season 1 that made me start watch Ninjago ✌ Also it's always Borg's Tower indeed 😂

OKINO KICKING BUTTS HECK YEAH LOOK AT OUR RONIN GO!!!

And wow. WOW. I didn't expect Jay to drop the I'm adopted bomb on us, I think I never heard him talk about it since Skybound (that technically never happened so 😅). It was SO good seeing him sympathize with Unagami because he was also left with no explaination. His desire to know, along with the hope that the past is the past, but they had a good reason for. Also he freaking said he didn't have the chance to ask because Cliff is dead and I 😭😭😭😭

And here I melted, because we finally see the situation for what truly is, the way Jay also sees it: Unagami is a kid, a child that doesn't understand how the world works, that just wants to make his father proud but got rejected instead. The confrontation was actually touching, I really wish we had more time for that. Even a little resistance from Unagami, another fight, and a finally reconcilliation with Dyer.

MY NINJA BABIES ARE BACK I MISSED YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!! ❤💚💙🖤💦💎

Could you seriously be cuter than this?? ❤💙❤💙 I wished for more hugs but I'll settle for this I guess 😍

Okay, very nice to see Seven and Okino out there and deciding to live their lives in Ninjago, nice to see some others like the rats going back to Prime Empire. As Unagami said, he gave them a choice, it's up to them at this point

But I'm sorry, WHY ARE WE NOT GOING TO TALK WITH SCOTT??? That guy's been trapped inside the game the longest, not even a "Hey bud, you're alive, cool cool"? I know I've been overbearing about how much I love Scott, especially since I had all those theories about him (still don't know why he has lightnings on his jacket and hat, is it just a style thing? Idk), but come on! Well I guess if he's happy I am 🤷‍♀️

Is that his girlfriend or something? After 30 years? Or maybe she got trapped with him a while later? Or maybe that's his... mom? Look, we all know determine the age of LEGO characters is hard, give me a break please 😅😅

Overall, very nice ending, it brought everything together quite nicely. I'm satisfied, yes!! 💜💜

FINAL THOUGHTS

As I said, the episodes' lenght I really think gets in the way of making this an excellent season. There is so much that could be explored more, the choice matter, all the amazing characters, and the AI feelings stuff from the latest episodes. There is room for more, I wished we got that

The characters though were really amazing. Between Scott, Okino, Seven and Unagami himself, there were very different personalities with very different dreams and thoughts, that made this ride much more interesting

Fighting animation was 👌👌👌

Comebacks from past seasons were 👌👌👌👌👌👌👌👌👌

Maybe it didn't really focused on Jay as much until the end? Yeah it was about him, but we got to see his sensibility and his past only last episode. He loves Nya, he likes videogames, of course but there's more about him than meets the eye! Wished we saw that, but in general it was nice seeing him first line again 💙

I liked this season. It has flaws, but I enjoyed many parts and at the end I was left satisfied 👍

Just... wasn't Jillian supposed to be in this? Or is it next season? She said a mom was going to come back, I took for granted it was going to be Edna. I'm curious about next season now... FINALLY A COLE SEASON EVERYONE!!! 🖤🖤🖤

Thank you for leaving notes to my last rant, this helps me not jump excitedly every time a new episode comes out 😅 Well then, that's all from me!! Have a nice day everyone!! 💜💜💜

[sibillascribbles08]

Angst, angst, angst!!! For the clone verse, maybe the Ninja or Pixal?

Ninja angst??? Well here’s Kai and Cole at least

Implied character death

Flames swallowed all the trees in the corners of his vision. The light was only obscured by the black smoke that took up the rest of the air, but even all of that was tinted purple.

He didn’t pay attention to any of it.

A cough made his vision snap to the right. There was a boy, clad in green, though it was dusted with soot by this point. His shoulder was burned. His blond hair was matted together from dirt and sweat.

The boy met his gaze, green eyes going wide. “Kai?”

“You came quite a long way, boy.” A deep gravely voice emerged from his throat. “And all for what, to allow me to lay waste to this continent faster?”

The boy forced himself to stand up straight. “Say what you like, more people managed to escape.”

“And how long until I find all of them, hm? Even at the tip of the land we still found you.”

“Kai.” The boy repeated the name. “Kai you have to be in there. Please.”

“Save what little breath you have left.”

“And why kill me?” He raised his voice. “Why not just add me to your army, huh?”

“Oh, I considered it, but I can’t possess you. Your powers prevent it. Quite tragic really.”

The boy’s glare faltered, slowly replaced by fear. “Don’t make him do this.”

“Why not? Are you afraid?”

“Kai.”

“Feel free to scream as loud as you like.” He extended a hand, flames igniting in his palm.

“Kai don’t.” The boy’s voice cracked and was interrupted by a cough. “Kai–!”

The flames got brighter.

The scream tore Kai out of his sleep. It echoed in his head, so loud he swore it was in the room. He thrashed, kicking away whatever was covering him. He reached out, trying to grab something, anything. His vision wouldn’t focus. It was nothing but red and orange.

He put his hand down only to find nothing. His body fell to the side and he hit the ground with a loud thud. Kai groaned, clutching his head. It hurt, but at least now he could see where he was. The floor of his bedroom in the apartment.

Just a dream. A nightmare.

Or was it?

Kai curled up on the floor, his grip on his head getting tighter as he tried to fight back the tears. It wasn’t the first time he dreamt about this, and it never got any easier. Everyone tried to assure him they were just nightmares but he couldn’t shake the feeling that wasn’t the case. Lloyd’s face, the overlord’s voice, all of it seemed too real and too vivid.

“Kai?”

Kai tilted his head to see Cole standing in the doorway, his hair up in his usual ponytail when he slept. His friend came into the room, kneeling down beside him. “Hey, you okay?”

“Nightmare again.” Kai mumbled.

“Ah, well, that’s not a good place for you buddy.” Before asking permission, Cole lifted Kai off the floor with ease and deposited him back on the bed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?” Kai curled up again. “I already told you what happens.”

“Kai, they’re just–”

“Don’t tell me they’re just nightmares!” He shouted. “I know you have them too sometimes, and Jay, and Nya. We didn’t forget everything that happened when that bastard brainwashed us.”

“But that doesn’t mean everything is true either.” Cole leaned on the bed. “It’s just as possible our brains are making things up to fill the gaps.”

“Then what’s worse?” Kai hide his face in his knees. “The possibility that I killed Lloyd or the fact my head decided it’s the most logical conclusion.”

Cole let out a long sigh. The mattress dipped next to Kai before he found himself being pulled into a hug. “Even if it did happen, Kai, it wasn’t you. None of us had the power to stop him. None of us had any control.”

“I know.” Kai sniffed. “But I hate having to see it. He kept calling out my name and trying to get me to snap out of it but I didn’t. He asked me to help him and I didn’t.”

“You couldn’t.”

“I know.” He choked back a sob. “But somehow that just makes it feel worse.”

Cole said nothing else as he hugged Kai tighter.

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Family and Fantasy

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Y/N finally gets the life she’s been dreaming of with the man she’s in love with but it’s not all it appears. 

Warnings: Supernatural typical violence, bad writing as always

____________________________________________

The sun shone brightly on your face, warming your skin, as you leaned against the warm sun-heated Impala. A light breeze rustled through the leaves of the forest that surrounded the clearing you were in and across the field of mixed weeds and flowers. Dean always insisted they were weeds at least; you thought that it was all beautiful. 

A large smile spread across your face as you heard the squealing laughter of your three year old son, Marcus, “Daddy stop!” He giggled, Dean chasing him in small circles with a big grin. You watched the two of them run around in the middle of the empty dirt road in front of your home.

“I’m gonna get you!” Dean said, closing in on the little boy, snatching him up in his arms and swinging him around. Laughter filled the air as Dean tossed him in the air and and ran up to you. “Now let’s get Mommy!” 

You put your arms up, jokingly shielding yourself as Dean and Marcus came running towards you, Marcus’s hands outstretched. His bright green eyes - his father’s eyes - sparkled with glee. Marcus squealed excitedly. “No!!!” You teased. Suddenly, Dean thrust Marcus into your open arms, “throwing” him at you. 

“Got you!” Marcus giggled, throwing his slightly chubby arms around your neck. Dean came up besides you, wrapping his arms around your body and squeezing you and your son into his arms. He kissed the top of your head and you snuggled into his neck, taking in everything. The feeling of his skin against yours, the scent of him and his cologne on his shirt, the slight scratch of his ever-so-slightly scruffy face on your cheek as he nuzzled against you, the squirming of your son as he vied for your attention over Dean. Most importantly, you looked up at Dean and you saw him smile. He actually smiled with genuine happiness and contentment. 

You looked up lovingly at him and watched his gaze scan across the scene in front of him: from the luscious green forest around a field mixed with grass and flowers to the dirt road that doubled as your driveway to the large dirt driveway that led to your home then back to your son, who there was no denying was his just by looks. Finally, his gaze drifted down, beautiful green eyes meeting yours as he kissed you gently, “I love you.” 

______________

Dean rushed into the motel room excitedly, setting the bags of take-out on the half-broken table. It was a good night. It was his night to take the bed instead of the floor and he had just gotten back from getting a double bacon cheeseburger. What wasn’t to love? “I HAVE PROVIDED!” He announced, throwing his arms in the air triumphantly for doing a basic human task like getting food.

He reached into the large brown paper bag, pulling out his burger before looking pu and noticing that nobody was getting their food. “Don’t all get up at once.” He commented sarcastically, looking at Sam, Cas, Jack, and… oh. That’s what was off. “Where’s Y/N?” 

Sam leaned back from his laptop, “Y/N’s not back yet.” 

“What do you mean Y/N isn’t back yet?” He asked. 

“I mean she isn't back. She left this morning to go check in on the girl we wanted to talk to about the potential case here but she never came back. She stopped responding to my text messages five hours ago. She won’t answer her phone.” 

“Maybe her phone died?” Dean suggested, trying to push aside the panic that was rising in his chest. 

Cas shrugged, “That’s what we assumed too but she’s been gone for almost twelve hours. Even if her phone did die, she should have been back by now or at least told us she went to go do other things. It’s nearly eleven o’clock at night. And nothing in this town is open past eight as far as I can tell.” 

Dean thought for a second, “Okay… so what do we do? Where do we start? What do we know?” He rambled. 

“I’m not sure,” Jack started, “But she went to interview someone who knew the vic right? Maybe we should go talk to the girl she interviewed? See if she knows anything?” 

Cas nodded, “That would be a good place to start.”

Before Cas even finished agreeing, Dean had the keys pulled out of his pocket and was heading towards the door, “Alright, let’s go.” 

__________________

“Excuse me boys but what exactly do you think you’re doing?” You questioned, hands on your hips, as you watched your three year old sitting on the granite kitchen counter next to your husband, both of them looking like a deer in headlights. Marcus quickly ripped his hand out of the pack of cookies he and Dean were sneaking into while Dean continued to look at you, mid-bite into his chocolate chip cookie. They knew they were caught. “I just got back from the store to make dinner! It is not time for cookies!” You exclaimed, not actually mad, just irritated at Dean for spoiling your son’s appetite. It was hard enough getting him to eat his veggies sometimes. 

“Daddy! Mommy’s home!” Marcus very obviously scream whispered, panicking. 

Dean leaned over, “Yeah, thanks buddy.” You cocked an eyebrow at him. After a second, Dean stood a little straighter, looking at you defiantly and finishing biting into the cookie. 

“Dean Winchester! Don’t make me fight you!” You threatened, reaching over to pick Marcus up off the counter. 

“Is that a promise or a threat?” Dean asked with a smirk and cheesy eyebrow wiggle. 

Your eyes widened as you cleared your throat, motioning to the toddler in your arms. 

Your husband rolled his eyes, “Awe c’mon, he’s three. He doesn’t know what I mean.” You rolled your eyes back at him, setting Marcus down. 

After watching him run into the other room, Dean moved a little closer to you, grabbing your waist and leaning close to you, his scruffiness scratching seductively up your neck, making your knees weak. “So… maybe we can get him to bed early tonight and we can make that a promise?” 

______________________

“Hello, Miss. Peyton Wilson?” Sam started, the girl nodding in response, “I’m agent Cole and this is my partner agent Wanek,” He gestured to Dean, “Another agent came by this morning to speak with you about your brother’s death, correct?” 

Peyton looked as if she’d been crying for days, her eyes puffy and hair messy, “I already talked to the police. But no, nobody from the FBI came by.” 

“No?” Sam asked, fear flashing in his chest, “Okay, well I’m sorry for bothering you so late. We’ll be back tomorrow at a more reasonable time to speak with you about the incident. Have a good night.” 

“So she never made it here?” Dean thought out loud as they walked towards the impala where Jack and Cas were. 

From the back, Cas said, concerned, “Then she’s been missing for longer than we thought.” 

“So where do we start then?” Dean asked, needing something productive to be said. He felt like they weren’t getting anywhere. 

In the backseat, a thought occurred to Jack, “What if whatever we’re hunting here got Y/N too?” 

Dean groaned, “Then we better find whatever it is fast. We don’t even know for sure what we’re hunting. But whatever it is, it’s not good and she probably doesn’t have much time.” 

“Three known victims so far, all completely drained of blood. So we’re down to… what? A vamp or a djinn?” Sam thought through before sighing, “Either way, it’s not good.” 

“And where’s the nest then?” Cas asked. 

Out across the dark, rainy street, what looked like a teenage girl walking down the sidewalk caught Sam’s attention. She walked straight ahead, shielding herself from the rain by pulling her coat over her head. Sam watched, noticing that she kept glancing behind her nervously. “Hey, guys…” Sam mentioned, drawing everyone’s attention to the young girl who was quickly looking more and more scared. The girl completely stopped, looking around and taking out her earbuds when suddenly a man appeared out of the bushes next to her. Within less than a second, his eyes glowed a bright blue, illuminating his heavily tattooed body, and he snatched her into the bushes, the both of them disappearing silently. 

All four of the men jumped out of the car, rushing towards where the girl and djinn just stood. “I guess we know which one it is now.” As they approached where they were, they couldn’t find where they went. Dean rustled the leaves around, trying to figure out where the djinn could have possibly taken the girl. That’s when he saw the opening behind the bush. 

“Right here guys!” He announced, ripping away the branches and diving straight into the tunnel, gun drawn. It was dark and entirely concrete, walls, floor, ceiling, and all. Water leaked from cracks in the ceiling, small weeds peeping through the seams between slabs on cement. The tunnel itself only went about fifteen feet in before opening into a medium sized room lit only by the sporadic, nearly-burnt out candle. 

Dean cautiously scanned the room, nodding his head silently to let the other three men know it was clear. They all entered, guns readied. Broken furniture littered the room except for the occasional mostly intact couch or table. The men spread around the room, each looking in different areas for either the man or the girl he took or (preferably) you. 

Jack followed along one wall, seeing a hallway that led off to the right. He rounded the corner, gasping when he saw the scene in front of him. Across the room, he saw a row of people strung up by rope around their wrists, feet barely touching the floor (not that it mattered considering they hung limp and unconscious anyways.) There were three people in total: one older gentleman, a younger man- the one who’s disappearance drew you all to the town in the first place, and you. Each of you were hooked up to an IV system, deep red blood flowing from your arms into a bag that hung next to each of your bodies.  “Dean! Sam! Cas!” Jack yelled, alerting the others. 

______________________________

You couldn’t help the slight quiver in your legs or the flutter in your chest as Dean’s lips dipped below your jaw and just behind your ear, knowing every spot on your body that made you weak. His rough hands gently crept under your shirt, calloused fingers resting on your soft skin, as he pinned your body between his hips and the granite kitchen counter. You tilted your head, giving him better access to exactly where you wanted him. A whimper escaped your lips as he sank his teeth into your delicate skin before soothing over it with his tongue. 

“Do you realize how beautiful you are?” He asked, pulling away from your neck to look into your eyes with all the love and adoration that they held five years ago when you first fell in love. 

Gosh, the way this man made you feel. He had the power to make you feel like the strongest most badass woman in the world but he could also make you feel like the most beautiful, loved person on the planet. 

“Do you realize how much I love you?” You responded, hoping your eyes conveyed the exact same message his did. Before he could respond, you pulled him close to you, hand resting on his neck before craning your mouth back up to meet his in a fiery kiss. Dean’s large hands trailed down from your hips to your thighs, lifting you up onto the counter. He quickly closed the gap between you, hips coming flush with you. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips as you pulled him impossibly closer, earning a grunt from Dean as the bulge in his jeans rubbed against your clothed core. 

Your lips still crashed passionately as his hand snaked around your lower back and he leaned forward, catching you off guard as you suddenly found yourself leaning back. Before you could lie all the way down, your hands shot out in panic, trying to catch yourself in a momentary panic despite the fact that Dean had you supported the whole time. In your panic, you accidentally knocked a small pile of books off the counter and they came crashing to the ground with a loud thud. 

You and Dean both froze, listening for Marcus to see if he woke up. After it was decided it was safe, you giggled at your mishap. Dean looked down at you and poked your sides in humorous aggression, “Gotta be quiet princess or you’ll wake him up! It’s already been so long.” He growled the last part, diving back into your neck, trailing hot kisses down into your cleavage and across your breasts, pulling your tank top down further to expose your supple skin. His teeth grazed over the tender flesh pulling a whimper from your lips. 

“You sound so sweet princess.” Ohhh that nickname. It really did things to you. His hands came up to massage your breasts , pulling your shirt and bra down, completely exposing you, and you found yourself arching your back into his rough palms. “You have no idea how badly I’ve missed this.” He groaned in your ear, grinding his hips into your heat and you could feel everything. 

“I’m pretty sure I have an idea.” You teased, your words broken by breathy moans. Slowly, he moved his left hand from your breast and down to your heat, massaging you through your shorts. 

“Oh Dean-” You moaned in ecstasy. 

_______________________________

“Dean…” You groaned quietly. 

“I’m here! I’m here Y/N. C’mon wake up.” Dean told you, panicked, as he and Sam ran over to you. Dean checked your pulse while Sam whipped out his knife and began sawing through the ropes that held you up. It didn’t take long to cut all the rope and your weight crashed into Dean’s arms. He gently lied you on the ground, kneeling over you. 

“He’s dead. Is she okay?” Cas asked, looking over from his own work of cutting down the elderly gentleman. 

“She’s alive.” Dean announced, “C’mon Y/N, wake up!” He shook you slightly. Gosh, you were so pale and your skin was cold and clammy. Your lips were chapped and he could’ve sworn they were almost purple. His eyes trailed down to where the IV was and he quickly removed the tape, gently removing the catheter from your arm, blood squirting down your arm from the lack of pressure. “Jack! Help!” 

Jack quickly ran over to you and swiped his hand over your body. His eyes glowed bright amber and a warm energy flowed from his hands into your body, stopping the bleeding in your arm and trailing up. As he worked his way up, you slowly regained some color and your breathing became more regular. 

Before he could finish though, Sam yelled, grunting as he was tackled to the ground by a man. Jack stopped and stood quickly, his attention turning to Sam who was being attacked by the same man that had taken the girl earlier that night. The man choked Sam, his hands gripping tightly around his throat. “Jack-” He choked out, hands trying to pry the man’s grip off. As Sam met his eyes though he noticed them glow bright blue and saw the tattoos all over his body do the same and Sam knew right away what he was dealing with. 

With a flick of his wrist, the man was thrown off Sam by some invisible force and sent crashing into the cement walls. Sam rolled over, gasping and coughing loudly, managing to croak out, “It’s a djinn!” 

The tattooed monster didn’t stay down for long though and before the boys knew it, he was back up. The djinn rushed towards Castiel, who turned soon enough to take a blunt tackle to the chest. He found himself pinned against the wall. Cas struggled hard against the pressure but the djinn wasn’t budging. Again, he glowed bright blue and brought his fingers up to Castiel’s forehead. When he did, Cas’s eyes glowed as well and he stared off as if he were in a trance. 

Before the djinn’s magic was completely though, Sam rushed up from behind, running him through with the angel blade. His blue glow flickered before completely dimming and he crashed to the ground. Cas fell as well but quickly regained consciousness, the djinn’s magic having not worked entirely. 

“Jack!” Dean hissed, snapping a distracted Jack back to his previous job of healing you.

“Right!” Jack knelt back down next to you and ran his hands over your still body. Slowly, you began moving again, even if only a little. 

Suddenly, your eyes shot open as you gasped and sat up, nearly knocking Dean’s head with yours. You leaned back against your hands as you gasped, looking around at your surroundings.

How the hell did you get here? What happened? Where were you? Two seconds ago you were in your very happy home, doing very very pleasant things with your husband when suddenly you were jolted to wherever the hell this was. You really thought you were done with all that hunter stuff… 

“Y/N?!” A familiar voice gasped, “You’re okay! We’ve got you!” 

You looked over to see Dean crouching next to you but this wasn’t your Dean. This was the Dean you’d first started dating back when you were hunters. “What’s going on?” You asked, looking around frantically. Dean, Cas, Sam, and Jack all stood around you with worried looks on their faces. 

“You were taken by a djinn,” Cas explained, turning to the boys, “Her confusion is probably caused by suddenly being jerked from whatever fantasy he had her in.” 

Fantasy. That was just a fantasy? “It all felt so real.” You sighed sadly to yourself. You wanted that to be real so badly.

Dean took your hand gently, “Believe me, I know. I’ve been zapped in by one of those suckers too.” 

“Let’s get her back to the hotel.” Sam suggested. 

Everyone nodded in agreement and Dean reached down to help you up. The second his skin touched yours, your heart sped up and you gasped, still feeling hot from his touch in your dream. Dean noticed and looked at you with a concerned expression, “You okay?” 

You nodded hurriedly, avoiding eye contact with him. It was all too weird. You’d been in love with the man for months and you finally had everything you’d dreamed of. You’d been with him in ways you could only imagine being with him in real life and now it was as if none of it had happened. Because none of it had. 

“I can do it.” You stated, pushing yourself up with wobbly arms. They were still sore despite the fact that your wounds had been healed.

Together, the five of you made your way out of the room you were in, along with the girl they’d saved. Once outside, you made quick work of making the scene look like a typical kidnapping-murder. Dean called it in to the police that you’d all been working with as FBI and told them that you’d found the victims. 

As soon as all of that was done, you’d gotten in the Impala and made your way back to the motel. Everyone noticed you were uncharacteristically quiet but chose not to push it. They had no clue what hallucination you were stuck in. 

But Jack, of course, with his child-like naivety and thirst for learning looked at you innocently in the backseat, “So you were stuck in a dream?” He asked. 

You nodded, trying to hide the sadness, “Apparently so.” 

“And he was feeding off of your blood while keeping you trapped in a dream?” He pressed, innocent curiosity all over his face. 

“Yes, Jack.” You stated simply, really not wanting to explain all of this right now. It wasn’t as if you’d just been strung up and drained of your blood all day or anything. 

He shifted in his seat to look at you, “So what did you dream about?” 

You stopped, unsure what to say. Silently, you looked up to the front seat to look at Dean, hoping with every fiber of your being that maybe that dream was some premonition, “It actually wasn’t bad,” You explained with a small smile, “It was everything I’ve wanted my life to be for a long time.” 

“Doesn’t sound like a bad way to die,” Jack commented, “Y’know, stuck in a perfect dream world where you can’t feel yourself slowly being murdered.” 

You cringed a little at the way he explained it, especially since he did it with his boy-like smile. “I guess you’re right, Jack.” You chuckled. 

“Well now that you saw your perfect life, maybe you can work on making it real!” He chirped excitedly. 

Again, your eyes found their attention on Dean and the way the moonlight and headlights highlighted his features in the night and the way he occasionally peeked back at you to make sure you were okay. How could a girl not fall for him? “Yeah, maybe you’re right.” You said with a smile. Maybe he was. 

[r-ate-9]

Three Can Keep a Secret (if two of them are dead) - Ch. 2

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human Chapter 2 of 2 Characters: Connor, Cole, minor-OC's Warnings: Ref-rape (non-explicit), Drug abuse, homelessness. Summary: During a home-invasion gone wrong, Connor tries to protect his brothers using the gun his father keeps locked away. Disaster strikes and Connor runs away... Read on AO3 | Fanfiction.net

“Missing Person!” The signs yelled at Connor as he walked through the streets. “Inform local Police if you see him!” They pled. The face stared imploringly at Connor – he turned away. Not his problem, he had stopped drugs ages ago, what happened in that realm was not his concern, dammit.

Hey Connor, the boy said slipping him a baggy, see you later. A crooked smile tinged in sadness. A cracked interior so like Connor’s own.

“Missing Person!” Another sign blared in Connor’s ears, begged for help. “Please call with information!”

Thanks, champ. The boy took a drag of the cigarette and closed his eyes.

“Anytime.” Connor whispered to the poster; eyes locked with the face pictured. The boy was less broken here, a sparkle glittered his eyes, cheeks flushed from laughter or cold or pure joy – Connor liked to think all three.

He imagined.

A day in the snow, with forts towering high and laughter dancing on the breeze.

Three boys darting from cover to cover, no sides chosen, a free-for-all.

Calling each other’s names and bursting with happiness.

Going inside with cheeks nipped by frost and chattering to their parents a million thoughts.

Hot cocoa and marshmallows.

Yes. Connor liked to think the boy was happy in this picture. His inside warm and full of cocoa and happy thoughts.

“Please call!” The writing begged; numbers listed with points of contact. The name and description of the boy, his age.

Thanks, champ. The boy whispered, words tinged in sadness but eyes soft and open.

“Okay.” Connor said. He rubbed his arms. “Okay, Cole.”

⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗

Connor returned to the alley he first met Cole. He didn’t think to find much, but he knew more than the cops did. Cole sold here; Cole spent enough time here to leave his imprint. Connor could see it in the cracks of the walls, could smell it in the air.

There was no trash here. There were no roaches to scitter underfoot, or startling stains in jagged shadows. Cole was soft and new and broken. But Cole was not of Connor’s kind. They – Greg and Dan and Connor – hadn’t thought he would last, too naïve for their world.

Dan. Connor needed to find Dan. He knew he’d gone underground since Greg overdosed after rehab. But Dan was a rat and he left a trail – Connor could find him. Then from there, Connor didn’t know, but he had to keep going.

Don’t stop running. Why why whywhy Connor why did you run? Hands clutched his coat tight.

He had to keep going. Connor didn’t look down.

⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗

Dan was easy to spot in the room. Connor knew how to find him.

In a hole-in-the-wall bar in the dirtier streets of Detroit, Connor found his old druggie buddy snorting a line off the counter. Dan looked about the same as he had three years ago. More wraithlike. His eyes were hollowed out and glassy. His bones were brittle and nearly pierced his paper-y skin.

Connor slid onto the stool beside him and gestured for a drink. He rested his chin on his fist and studied the next line Dan was setting up. “Got a light?” He asked.

Dan wobbled and turned to face him. He squinted his eyes. “Connor? Yeah, man that is you!” He slapped Connor on the shoulder. “Fuck. It’s been a fucking hot minute, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah man. How’s dealin’ going for you?” Connor replied, thinking back to what he last remembered had changed.

“Fucking-a.” Dan replied. He crouched over the counter and inhaled. “Business is booming right now. ‘pparantly the last exam at the college wiped its ass with half the student body. They’re fucking lining up right now for a hit.”

“Good. Good.” Connor couldn’t hold Dan’s self-destructive against him. He’d been there right alongside him, after all. It was almost surreal, catching up like this. If he really focused on the drugs and let himself linger, he could imagine Greg was seated in the chair beside Dan, cursing about tests. He could ignore the flicker by the lamps and the why why Connor why that followed him everywhere.

“So, what’s got you hanging out with me, anyway, man?” Dan asked, rolling his shoulders and sighing at a satisfying crick. “I’d be happy to give you a freebie, but you’re free and I’ve seen you out there in the workforce.”

“Yeah. No.” Connor smiled sadly at Dan. “If I wasn’t worried ‘bout completely fucking myself in the ass again, I’d take you up on that. Nah.” He continued, thinking of soft brown eyes and a cracked smile. “You remember Cole?”

“The kid with the cheap shit? Yeah, I heard he up and vanished. What about him?”

Connor picked at his fingernails, wincing at the feeling of stickiness. “I- I saw something.”

Dan placed his hand on Connor’s, halted his nervousness and forced their eyes to meet. “Fuck Connor. What?”

“I saw-” He thought, eyes wound shut.

Glass shattering. The bags falling and groceries scattering across the sidewalk. A figure passing the stoop, pushing another along “Keep your head down and keep walking.”

“N-no!” A cracked whimper.

Groceries spilled and liquid leaking across the pavement.

Red seeping into cracks.

Sticky hands and sticky fingers.

“Do what I say.” Dark, cold steel; hands raising high and clutching

sticky hair and sticky hands and burning knees from

“O-okay-y. I-I will j-just don’t…” A wet smack. A gasp for air. A moan.

“I saw his kidnapping. I saw him get- he got- fuck Dan.” Connor buried his sticky hands and sticky fingers hands in his hair and tugged. “I saw.”

“Okay. Okay. Shit.” Dan rubbed Connor’s arms. “Okay, fucking obviously, you can’t go to the cops. But he was just a kid and we’re just kids, Con.”

“Yes.” Connor agreed. “But he wasn’t one of ours. He was- he was alone Dan. I saw him, Dan. I saw. I can’t go to the cops, but I know what happened.”

“Yeah Con, you and your fucking bleeding heart.” Dan smacked the table, gestured for another round. “Okay man. I know what you’re gonna say – we gotta find the brat. He sold good shit, kept us out of the ditches for months until I figured out the business. He fucking saved our asses. You resold his shit and got yourself out of this fucking hole. Yeah, we fucking owe him.” Dan shoved Connor’s glass before him and downed his own. “Drink the liquid courage. Wish you’d snort the line, but I know you better. We’ve gotta go deep to find him.”

Connor raked his nails through his hair and relaxed his posture. He downed both the glass he’d ordered, and the one Dan got him. “Okay, Dan. I was hoping you’d help.”

“Yeah. Cheers, man.”

⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗

Looking for Cole was hard, to say the least. With enough cash, Connor knew he could find just about anything talking to the right people. But Connor was low on money. He was always low on money. A few months ago, he’d scraped enough together to buy a new blanket and backpack. He paid for a postal box every month, so his job had somewhere to write in as a place of residence. Aside from that, Connor needed to eat.

But Connor couldn’t ignore Cole. He didn’t know jack shit about his old dealer other than his dad was a cop and he’d lasted longer in the business than anyone would have guessed.

Dan had cash, not that Connor was going to spend his friend’s money on this expedition. Just having Dan’s support and open ears was enough.

So, Connor couldn’t grease mouths with cash. He had another option; one he didn’t like to think about. It was an option, but it could wait. Connor could snoop first.

Connor knew what the men who- who stole Cole looked like. He couldn’t go to the cops, like Dan said fucking obviously. But word on the street was that Markus Manfred, son of the famous Carl Manfred, liked to hang out at the Caribou Coffee Shop with his little gang of friends. And if Connor could pay him to do a small sketch then he could ask others about those two thugs.

Connor stood outside the Caribou Coffee, a pricey hipster coffee shop if there ever was one. But it was bright, warm lights danced inside. Connor couldn’t see any shadows and for a second, he thought maybe he would come back. But then he saw the coffee prices and laughed. Never mind.

Besides, the sticky hands and sticky fingers tugging him pushing him flickers were inside his mind. He’d never escape.

Connor clutched his bag and scooted to the counter, ordered a small coffee and camped out by the window. He hoped he could just ask and pay and run away.

He tapped his fingers along the mug and pulled out a small notebook and looked over the list of Cole, as he waited.

An hour later, Connor ordered another coffee and cringed at the cost. He needed every penny for the sketch, not his cover. As he was dropping the old mug back on the counter, he turned and saw Markus, exactly as the google images Connor had found at the library showed him. Finally.

He waited until Markus settled in a booth, not too far from Connor’s own. Then, hesitatingly, Connor settled in the seat across from Markus. “Hello.” He said quietly. “I’m Connor, mind if I sit here?”

Markus glanced up from his phone and nodded, smile confused. “Yeah, sure. Can I help you?”

“I- yeah. Yes, please.” Connor placed the mug down. “I know who you are.” Markus’ smile soured slightly, a tinge of falseness coming out. “I need a sketch and I don’t know anyone who might be able to draw someone from descriptors only. I- I’m no artist.” Connor laughed bitterly.

The other glanced at the phone, typed something quickly and placed it face-up on the table. “Look, Connor was it?” Connor nodded. “I’m not in the business for random jobs right now. If you want something sketched, you can go to my website and enter the contest and maybe you’ll win.” He raised his hands. “Who knows?”

Connor couldn’t run away run away run run run Connor run just give up. “No.” He said. Frowning. “I’m sorry but I really need this, and I don’t care if you’re some amazing artist I just need a person’s face sketched and I’ll pay you and get out of your hair, okay?” He wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Connor scrabbled through his backpack and pulled out his lockbox. All his money was inside. He bit his lip and stared fixedly at the box. When he looked up, he saw Markus’ lips twisted crookedly and was holding the phone in the middle of a message. “Here.” He opened the box and pulled out half he owned. “I’ll give this to you. All of it. Just help me. Please.”

Markus put his phone down again, this time the screen was down. “Okay. Connor?” He pulled out a scrap of paper. “Tell me about this person.”

Connor did.

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Connor settled beside Dan at the bar and pulled out the drawing. Together they looked down.

“Shit.” Dan whistled. “You found yourself a fucking tough guy. You sure you want to go after him?” Connor nodded. “Alrighty. Fucking-A.” Dan bought them each a shot. “Liquid courage.”

They tapped glasses and drank.

Fucking-A indeed.

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With Dan’s contacts and the remains of Connor’s belongings, Connor bought a drug.

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Connor snuck into the house. Dan had opted out of this, saying he couldn’t get mixed up in another dealer’s shit. That was okay, Connor understood. Dan interfering would be starting a turf war and as much as their friendship was absolute shit, the last Connor wanted was Dan’s ghost haunting his dreams too.

Connor didn’t need to survive this. Cole did.

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Inside, Connor could hear a cacophony of noise, shouts of laughter and varied music. The air was foggy and hard to see through – only an ex-druggy could navigate through the blurred lighting and flashing sounds. The atmosphere was to increase user’s enjoyment of their drug-of-choice. Connor had visited a few houses like this himself. There’d be guards, bright-eyed and hidden beneath the smoke, ready to throw out trouble-makers or scatter at the sign of cops. There’d be users dancing and thrashing and passing out. There’d be others, testing the waters and seeing who were ripe for taking. Connor needed to pretend he was. Connor needed to be taken to Cole and then they could run run run Connor run leave together.

Connor didn’t want to snort. So, Connor had brought a date-drug and slipped a little into his own drink. Enough to get loose and floppy and easy. Connor sipped and relaxed and waited.

He giggled at the lights and the dancing shadows and why why why Connor why he cried at his brothers hiding in the shadows. Their eyes so sad so lonely Connor why why why Connor.

Gentle hands lifted him up and carried him away and Connor cried no no that’s my brother don’t take my brother Caleb no no no you killed my brother.

Connor cracked his eyes open to a sad smile and cracked eyes. Cole.

Cole.

Connor rolled over and pushed himself up. Carpet ­burns burns all down his arms scraped against his palms. “Cole!” He whispered and stared in wonder at the boy, alive before him.

Thanks, champ.

“You too, huh?” Cole whispered back. Soft brown eyes. A cracked interior so familiar and oh so broken.

“For you.” Connor smiled back, broken. “For you, Cole, for you.

Cole’s brow furrowed. “What?”

Connor glanced around. They were in a back room; he knew the type. He’d wandered back into them before during a drug-induced haze with Greg. The windows were barred outside, but the metal would be rusted and easy to escape through. It was daytime, the dealers were out and the others, the traffickers, would be planning another party for pickings. “I’m taking you home, Cole.”

Cole frowned. “Why?” He pulled his hands to his chest and rocked back on his heels. “I- I’m- I was just your dealer, Connor. I’m nothing. I’m just- alone.” Broken glass fell from his teeth and tinkled on the ground. Jagged shadows threatened his eyes and Connor wondered.

A cracked interior so familiar. Broken words, cracked smiles and shattered glass.

Crying crying boys with sticky fingers and sticky hands why why Connor why?

Connor running running always running.

“I’m taking you home – you have a home and a family, and they miss you, Cole. I don’t- I don’t know who they are but everywhere I walked.” Connor sighed raggedly. “You’re everywhere, Cole. I don’t have a– You need to go home.” He smiled, teeth jagged and sharp and eyebrows just a little too high. Smiling was wrong for him. Connor didn’t smile.

“Okay.” Cole said. He took Connor’s hand. “Okay Connor.”

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Connor wrapped Cole in the blanket, trying to collect all the shattered pieces together. He tried to tuck Cole back together again. He- it was his blanket. His blanket so new and so old and so full of skewed memories.

Connor tucked Cole together and took him to his little bridge and together they huddled close and hid. Connor didn’t want to say goodbye. Connor wanted a friend, just for tonight. Just tonight before he said goodbye and Cole went home and Connor went.

Cole shuddered and shivered and whimpered and cried.

Connor held him and stared down his shadows and said no no no not tonight go away go away.

Connor leaned against the brick wall and watched Cole approach the police station “Dad works here.” He said. “He’s going to be so mad.”

“He’s going to love you and hug you and be so happy.” Connor replied.

Cole turned, raised one hand to Connor, and stepped into the station. Connor sighed.

Sticky hands and sticky fingers clutching tight holding tight, Connor Connor Connor. The wind sighed, pulled him away. Run away run run runaway Connor.

Connor didn’t want to run.

Not anymore.

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Connor settled under his bridge and shivered. He had no money for food, he’d spent the last bit on Cole and Cole and Cole.

Cole Cole Cole Cole

Connor’s toes were numb, and his stomach ached, and he wondered.

He hadn’t shown for work and they’d said no don’t come back where were you to go.

Dan was not answering. Shadows flickered and hey man, how’s life hands clutched him tight.

Connor didn’t want to wonder anymore. Connor wanted to sleep.

Sticky hands and sticky fingers and running running – no that’s my brother don’t kill my brother why why why connor why did you hurt my brother no no Niles! No Caleb no stop don’t hurt my brothers no no no run Connor run run away you hurt them why why why Connor why did you hurt my brother-

Hot cocoa and smiles and marshmallows and little boys laughing.

Coughing and blood speckling snow and little hands holding hurting tummies and scared eyes saying no no Connor no look out Connor don’t no that’s my brother don’t hurt my brother

And Caleb looking behind Connor saying stop stop why did you hurt my brother no Connor are you okay Connor Connor Connor run away Connor run run run run

And Niles coughing and crying and Noah scared with wide eyes peeking from around the door seeing everything open-mouth

And Connor saying no no no Noah look away yelling at the man distracting him look at me look at me look at me running running

Chase me chase me hurt me I hurt you I shot you hurt me not them

Distracting distracting them and the babysitter was there – the babysitter called police and and and

Connor stilled.

Connor slept.

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Cozy blankets and warm cocoa and four little boys playing in the snow with laughter and shouts of joy and happy parents with cocoa and happy smiles and laughter and snow and laughter.

Chapter 1

[captainchocolatesstuff]

Wings of the American Redstart (Part 1)

Harpy! Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

Flying. It was something many people dreamed of doing at some point, whether they dreamily looked up at the sky, or looked down at their feet in desperation. Sometimes it would come to the point where these people would look on in envy of the avian humanoids that would occasionally fly above them.

Harpies, they were called, humanoids who had wings for arms with clawed hands that appeared at the (usually) bent region of a birds wings when they rested and had bird-like legs and feet replacing the human ones from the knee and down, they even had feathered tails sprouting from their tail bones.

There was once a time when you did that as a child, bound in chains and stuck in a cage with rags for clothing, a salve, and an orphan. When the days were quiet and slow, you’d use that chance to doze off while looking at the sky, dreaming to somehow fly away from the place and the people within it that tormented and hurt you. For a while, you mourned the death of your family and your freedom, but several years of enduring the things they did to you made your rage and determination grow, and it kept growing until the day you finally found an opening. You took it with no hesitation, they took away the things that were most precious to you already, so when the path to freedom appeared before you, beckoning you to make a move, you took back your freedom. 

Once you had your freedom back you never once looked behind, and you took great pride in doing so, and when you reached a hill that overlooked a town you roared with laughter and cheer. You won, you won back the freedom that was once taken from you, and you jumped and danced with glee until you fell onto your back and gazed up at the sky. As you did you saw a flock of what looked like pigeon harpies flying in the sky, as you did you only smiled as you came to a realization; you didn’t need wings to break free. After that day you had to force yourself to steal in order to survive, it wasn’t something you wanted to do, but when you asked around for a small bit of coin to at least by yourself a loaf of bread the people often turned up their noses or gave you apologetic faces. You got caught several times and were often reprimanded for it, but soon you learned from the streets until an older gentleman took interest in you after you made quite a show of stealing from an obnoxious aristocrat.

You came to know him as Achillies, he was a great man and mentor who trained and taught you many things, he was an adventurer, master swordsman, and an ex-scribe. The man had many great achievements but he had no family of his own until he found you, an escaped slave and former thief, what he had he passed onto you. He even introduced you to a friend he called his brother when he introduced you to him it nearly took you by surprise that his friend was a harpy, his name was Harper and told you he was a barn owl harpy. He was someone you eventually began to see as an uncle, and while your family was small you took pride in it.

Achillies eventually passed away, while you were saddened about his departure you didn’t wallow in your tears, instead, you wore the apparel he gifted you and started your own journey. A journey that would eventually lead you to a quite explosive fellow, obtaining many bird friends and have history remembering your name.

You were in a tavern when you heard the rumors, sitting in the dark corner of the bar as you ate your soup when your ears caught onto a certain conversation.

“Hey Will, have you heard?”, you hear the gruff voice call to his pal.

“Heard what Jones”, his friend gave an irritable sigh.

“There be word spreading that slavers are now catching them harpies, dangerous stuff they be playn’ wit’ I tell ya”, the Jones fellow says, taking a chug from his tankard.

“Seriously? That’s outrageous, but then again I wouldn’t be surprised, there’s been a lot of slavers as of late and several nobles and aristocrats that took up a hobby of collecting living things, sickos I tell you”, Will grumbles as he stabs his steak with his fork.

This certainly caught your attention, it was common for slavers to kidnap people from all these exotic places or even scoop up some people when their country was at war, but harpies were something else entirely. They were creatures that were impossible to catch since they often stayed to themselves and whatnot. You kept listening to the conversation as you kept eating your meal.

���Them slavers got something that is said to be able to catch them flying persons, some sort of large wooden thing that acts like some huge crossbow, able to catch even the fastest one of them bunch”, Jones reveals.

“I think a saw it actually, some slavers southwest of here had that large thing you mentioned, I wasn’t able to get a good look though, they threatened me for just looking in their direction”, Will explains.

“Last I heard some flock and their young fledglings were in that forest playn’ or somethin’, poor bastards”, Jones sighs.

With that information gathered, you finished your meal quickly and placed some coins down on the table for the waitress to get as you stood and left the tavern. Adjusting your hood you loaded your creation (it was small, a bit bigger than your hand though, but packed quite the punch) with metal orbs you dubbed as “bullets”, and with a smirk, you called your horse. The black-spotted appaloosa immediately came trotting up to you, with a snort he stomped his hoof before resting his head against your hand, you chuckle as you climb up on the horse and pat his neck briefly.

“Ready to ruin another slaver’s job Stardust?”, you ask, the appaloosa whinnied in response, and with a chuckle, you bucked his sides letting him let loose and run in the direction you desired.

When you heard sounds of howling laughter mixing with panicked cries and saw harpies young and old flying away from an area you dropped down from your horse and hid Stardust within the forest trees, making your way towards the noises. Crouching down behind some bushes you saw four large cage wagons, in them, were at least five harpies in three of them and only four in the last one. You heard sounds of struggling and looked to where it was, four men surrounded a young harpy with ash-blond hair and looked to be a redstart breed, you looked around and saw four other men around the cages, cheeking the chains and sturdiness of some bars. It was eight men in total, and your “gun” creation could only take six of them down, looking at the carriages you saw many harpies fledglings and old alike. You heard sounds of the young ones cry before one of the men slammed against the bar and demanded that the older ones shut them up.

“Well, well we have a fighter here! Even after we hurt that wing of his”, a man shouts with a mocking laugh the harpy let out a “Fuck you!” in response, looking back at the surrounded harpy you saw one of the salvers holding him down by his head, “You wanna know what happens to your flying kind when you resist chicky? Why don’t I show ya?”.

You cursed as you raised your gun and took aim, loud shots rang out as you first shot down the men near the cages before taking down two of the men that surrounded the young harpy. Stepping out of the bushes, you brought out a sword as you pointed it at the slavers.

“I suggest you step away from the redstart unless you want to end up like your dead buddies, slaver”, you say cooly, tilting your head.

“You take one step closer and this winged brat is dead!”, the older guy threatens as he grips the kneeling harpy’s ash-blond hair, the young male hisses as his open red-eye glares up at you, teeth bared and visibly in pain and angry.

The slightly younger slaver suddenly has a look of realization as his face goes pale at the sight of you, fear taking hold of him as his shaky finger points at you, “It’s y-you! The Wingless One!”, he cries.

“What in the ever living shit is that Cole?!”, the man holding the harpy boy captive hisses as you ready two of your daggers with your hidden hand.

“They’re the one that intercepts slaver cargo! There are hardly any slavers that survive them, and when they do it’s a warning!! Let’s just run while we still can Jarred! Forget this I wanna live!”, Cole cries as he looks at his partner only to have a dagger embed itself into his neck, another one also landed on its target when the slaver let out a yelp once the pain registered in his right shoulder.

The guy fell back as the harpy fell on his non-injured wing, walking over to the guy you put away your sword and pulled out a long modified hammer, nothing at the metal area extended outwards it was a large stump. The slaver whimpered as he tried to crawl back, “Wait, wait, wait! You want money right? I can give you all I have! Just let me live!”, he begged.

You stopped before him, and there was a long pause, staring down at the slaver you scowled, “All you slavers are the same, scumbags through and through, don’t worry you’ll live, just not in the way you expect to”, you growl, looking over your shoulder you saw the harpies staring at you, “I suggest you all cover your fledglings’ eyes, this isn’t going to be a nice thing to remember”, you say before rasing the long hammer. The slaver pleaded and cried before you slammed down the modified tool on his face, and you did so repeatedly until his nose broke and lids swelled, his lips now cracked as he gurgled on his blood. Stepping back you looked down at your bloody work and put away your tool, walking over to the carriages to find some rope you looked at the chained harpies.

“Did any of you see any one of these men have some keys on them?’, you ask, keeping your voice low.

A young fledgling pointed down at one of the bodies, nodding at the young one you went to work with getting the keys as the injured harpy growled at you.

“Hey! Land crawler!”, he shouted at you, you looked over your shoulder briefly before unlocking the cages and handing several harpies some keys for their chains.

“I’ll get to your injury in a bit, hang on”, you wave to acknowledge his words.

“That- danm it! What are you up to!? You’re planning something!”, he accused.

“Katsuki! Hush you foolish chick! Please ignore him miss, he’s a bit shaken at the moment”, an older feminine voice says to you as you gather some rope and cut loose the majority of the horses except for one.

You shrug as you walked over to the unconscious beaten slaver, “Don’t worry about it ma’am, I suggest you all leave right now though if there is one slaver company there is bound to be another or two that follows”, you say as you tie the slavers feet together before tying it to the horse’s saddle.

Looking over at the still glaring harpy you caught the name of, Katsuki scowled at you when you looked at his injured arm, the injury was on the right side and several fethers were missing while the remaining ones were bloody. “I’ll tend to you in a bit”, you say as you lead the horse to the baren road by the reins, Katsuki clicked his tongue at you while two harpies (who you assumed were his parents since the young male shared some features with both) made their way over to the boy. Followed by two emerald chin hummingbird harpies, a boy and his mother.

“As if I’ll let a land crawler like you touch me!”, Katsuki hissed.

“Kacchan calm down!”, the green harpy tried to calm his friend.

“Shut up Deku!”, he growled, making the young harpy jump.

“Shut up you stupid brat! Be thankful that our savior came in when they did!”, his mother hissed.

“Shut up hag!”.

“Please calm down you two”.  

You sighed as you usher the horse to leave, it trotted as the slavers’ body was dragged behind it. Calling in Stardust, he made his way over to you with a snort as you walked back to the injured harpy, now joined by an extra harpy that was cardinal based. Grabbing your aid bag you kelt down next to the injured harpy,” Does anything else hurt other than your wing?”, you ask.

“As if I’d tell you-!”

“I heard a loud pop when one of the slavers pulled on his wing when they slammed him down, I think it was his arm socket, I am not too sure”, the cardinal harpy cuts off his friend, who snapped at him.

“Alright then, let’s take a look”, you huff softly as you touch Katsuki’s shoulder, his friend was right in saying that his joint was dislocated, so without any warning, you quickly snapped it back in place, making Katsuki yelp.

“What the hell?! You couldn’t just warn me dumbass”, he hissed.

“It was better if you didn’t think about it, heard it would hurt more if you put too much attention on it”, you brief, grabbing some gauze and ointment. Using your canteen and a rag you gently pour the water on his injured wing as you dabbed away the blood as quickly as you could.

“Was anyone else injured?”, you ask.

“Only bruises and scrapes, Kacchan got the most injured since he attempted to fight back”, he hummingbird harpy explained.

“They really caught us by surprise too, it was like they knew we would be here at a specific time”, the cardinal harpy points out.

You narrowed your eyes as you quickly patched up his wing and made a sling for him as you packed up your bag, “You won’t be able to fly for two weeks in a half with that injury, you guys should leave now”, you say as you placed your bag on Stardust’s saddle.

“What the hell did you just say!”, Katsuki demanded.

“This is bad, we have to go to the gathering and make it to the safe haven”, his mother hurriedly spoke as worry began to fill her eyes, her husband rubbed her shoulder comfortingly as you gathered your items.

“Wingless One, I know you saved us just now, but please… please help Kacchan!”, the green hummingbird harpy pleaded as you looked at him.

“Don’t speak on my behalf Deku!”, Katsuki growled.

“Please! I know he can be a bit rough on the edges but the place we are going to is really important! Katsuki has to be there to-”

“To gain his rank in the Gathering of the Rising”, you finish for the cardinal.

“How do you know about that ceremony?”, the mother of the hummingbird gaped as you lowered your hood revealing Harper’s Barn Owl feather tied into your hair. 

“I saw him as an Uncle, a barn owl harpy whose name was Harper”, you explain, “He taught me somethings about the Harpies in case I should come across some on my adventures…”

Looking at them you look at Katsuki, who in turn gave you a sharp glare, “If you want me to take this “Katsuki” then I must warn you, my adventures are often dangerous, I often intercept slavers and get into messy situations I will be able to take him to the sky of the Harpies but I can’t promise anything else”.

His parents look at one another before his mother gave you a firm look as a smile crossed her face, “Well, we can’t carry him that’s for sure, he isn’t a fledgling anymore and his wing needs time to heal… can I have your name Wingless One?”. Your eyes widened at what she was implying as Katsuki sputtered while his friends had a mix of hopeful and surprised looks.

“You’re not doing that old hag!”

This was a big responsibility, but they needed the help so with a sigh you made eye contact with the woman, “(Y/n), (Y/n) (L/n), the successor of Achillies”.

She smiles at you as she walked over and plucked her son’s feather making him hiss, she then wrapped the feather around your neck as she spoke, “I, Mitsuki Bakugo, entrust you, (Y/n) (L/n), with Katsuki’s soul”. Stepping back she looked at the others, and as if understanding they all flew up in the sky, going over to her son she chuckled at the glare he gave her, “Try not to give the girl a hard time, yeah?” and then she flew off.

“We’ll see you then Kacchan!”, the green harpy called.

“I’m almost jealous bro! Don’t worry we’ll save your spot!!”, the cardinal harpy smiled down at his friend before following the rest.

Katsuki growled in frustration as you climbed on your horse, he then glared at you with a scowl on his lips while you rose a brow at him, “Are you ready now?”

“I’m going to fucken kill you!!!”

[Part 2 status: Posted]

[that-is-where-they-wait]

That is Where They Wait Ch 14: The Letter

previous / next all chapters AO3 FFN

[so funny story I actually posted this on FFN and ao3 forever ago but not here. oops. but posting here is a hassle, in my defense. hope everyone is doing okay? also check the notes for some Haha Funny Jokes because I don't want to add them to the. actual post.]

Perhaps the way to answer the present is with the past.

The metal of the hinge was cool under his finger, intricate design branching onto the actual door. It should've been smooth, but instead it was rough and red.

Rust.

Kai frowned. Rusty metal was usually brittle — but the door hadn't come down, even when he and Karlof rammed into it repeatedly. That plan of ripping at its hinges and hoping it came down was starting to look flimsy.

Ech. Well, they had to keep trying and hope for the best. It wasn't like they could stay in the small, dark room much longer. Kai had cobbled together a makeshift flame with pieces of rope and cloth from his gi, but it would definitely not last much longer.

Plus, he was getting really antsy, and it'd be just plain stupid to be so isolated when they weren't safe. When he'd asked about Lloyd and found out he was, in fact, both inside the mansion and unaccounted for, he had been about ready to knock Karlof's helmet off of his head.

… In hindsight, maybe he'd been a little forceful.

But hey, in return, he'd informed Karlof about everything they knew on the mansion and the spirit so far. So he didn't feel too bad about it.

"Psst." He went over to where he'd left Karlof and poked. "We gotta go."

No response.

Ohhhh, perfect. The guy had to go and fall asleep on him. They'd already spent so much time staying put! He was itching to get moving again, and Lloyd and Skylor were still out there, who knew where! Not to mention, if the others woke up and noticed him missing … (It occurred to him, a little belatedly, that they might blame Jay for that. Another twinge of guilt. But he could apologize for that when they went back.)

But it had been an exhausting trek just to get here. Karlof had endured that, and no sleep to recharge afterwards …

Kai sighed, seating himself next to him. Yeah, they weren't going anywhere until Karlof finished his beauty sleep. But then there came the issue of having nothing to distract himself with. Already he could just feel himself tiredly debating whether to indulge the pessimistic trains of thought forming in his head in all their bleak glory.

Abruptly, something slammed against him. Okay, so it didn't slam into him, but it definitely felt that way, because oof! It was heavy. Kai squirmed briefly, but a moment later, he realized he shouldn't even bother. Instead, he hissed an irritated puff of air through his teeth and tried to pull an overly-cuddly Karlof off of him. Why in the name of the First Spinjitzu Master was he—

An exposed part of his bandaged arm made contact with Karlof's for a second, before Kai drew it away and grimaced at how cold it was.

… Oh.

The way Karlof's arm was draped on him, Kai couldn't reach his face with his hand. He settled for a drawn-out groan instead. Just because he was the human toaster … and now he couldn't move!

Oh well. If nothing else, he could totally hold it over Karlof's head later. Blackmail material or something. But what was he supposed to do now?

A bleary yawn escaped his mouth.

There was one idea.

Nope, he thought to himself immediately. No way, José, someone had to stay awake, and he'd already bailed out on that once. But the door was locked, and the whole day and the effects of staying up so long were finally catching up to him …

Kai tried to debate the point a little longer, but as it turned out, he was pretty tired. Too tired to properly argue with himself, and before he could, he'd already fallen asleep.

The tiny flame winked out and left the room engulfed in black.

Lloyd wrapped up a summary of the search he'd just gotten back from.

Considering that depressingly little had changed since the last time they'd looked, it didn't take very long. The ever-encroaching cocktail of panic and despair clawed at his guts and his chest, made his throat tight, and he could feel it radiating off of Jay and Cole near him, optimistic as they tried to remain. At least Skylor had gotten some work in on fixing her bow while they'd been gone, although she hopefully wouldn't be needing it anytime soon.

The light trickling from the windows had become thin, silvery moonlight and long, fragmented shadows streaking across the floor and cutting into each other. Cole glanced at everyone in the room and declared that it was probably about time they slept; both searches had taken quite a while, even with how much of the mansion was still closed off to them. It didn't seem likely that much more would happen that day.

Zane took in everything they said solemnly, then pulled something out from beside him.

"It's disheartening to know that the two of them are still missing. But perhaps I can offer something else to think about before we rest for tonight?"

On closer inspection, it appeared to be a faded eggplant-colored satchel.

"I found this on the mantle while you were investigating in the tunnels. I didn't want to look through it without you …"

"Can I?" Lloyd reached out, opening the bag and peering into it for a moment. Then, as the rest of them watched, he stuck his hand in and, one by one, set its contents onto the floor for better examination.

On the carpet, there currently sat a small black inkwell, a quill stand, a bound book, a faded set of folded purple clothes, an assortment of large and small weapons, and a few loose pieces of parchment with writing on them. Maybe it all belonged to the person that owned the place, ages ago?

Evidently, they were all wondering a similar thing.

Lloyd set aside the empty bag and stared at the various items he'd placed down. "Hm. They were carrying weapons …"

"Whose stuff is all this?" Skylor finally voiced the question.

"It likely dates back to the Serpentine war," Zane said. "The antiquity of all the items would fit."

"Well, then, we should find out, shouldn't we?" Jay grabbed the book, slowly teasing open the binding and riffling through the pages. Lloyd caught a glimpse of inky letters over paper lightly yellowed with time; all things considered, it was pretty well-preserved.

"Careful, Jay, that looks heavy. Wouldn't wanna pull a muscle lifting that thing." Cole's mouth twitched up in a smirk, Jay briefly peering over the book with narrow eyes.

"… I mishandle an empty packing crate one time."

"Yeah, well," Lloyd huffed. "You nearly dropped it right on my foot. I still get splinters from that crate when I'm not watching my step."

"Thanks, Lloyd!" Jay looked supremely offended. "I didn't ask!" Still a little sullen from the disappointing results of the day, Lloyd didn't bother sassing him back. He scoffed when he noticed Jay looking helplessly at Zane — they all knew full well that never worked, so when the nindroid minutely shook his head there was hardly any surprise.

"Silly zaptrap," Cole shook his head and tsked. "Once is all it takes on this team. You of all people should know better."

Jay hmphed and nearly went back to skimming the book he'd picked up, but his head popped up curiously when Skylor spoke.

"Isn't it kind of late? If we're going to look at anything, maybe we should read one of the loose sheets instead. I feel like trying to get into something that long when we need to sleep isn't the best idea. I want to stay in-the-know, but I'm not sure how much longer I can pay attention to anything right now …" She shrugged, looking a little self-conscious. "Sorry."

Oh, right. It was usually Lloyd's job to be one of the voices of reason.

Looking around, he was certain that last sentence didn't pertain to just Skylor, though. The banter was being tossed rather lazily and there was a sluggishness to everyone's movements, even Zane's. As for himself, the temptation to just plonk onto the next piece of bedding he picked up while cleaning up the aftermath of the pillow-and-assorted-accessories fight and sleep on it right there had been overwhelming.

"It's quite alright," Zane reassured her. "You have a point, at that. Perhaps something like this would suffice for tonight?" He held up a messily rolled piece of paper, and pulled it open. Lloyd eyed it and nodded; seemed interesting enough. Most likely, they could learn a thing or two, discuss, and then go to bed without too much further ado.

"Looks good to me," Cole said. "Let's see about this person, then."

Zane's eyes fell to the paper for a few seconds before freezing, glowing ever so faintly brighter, and doing a funny skip between Lloyd and the paper before settling back on the paper. Lloyd frowned, unsure he liked the new furrow in Zane's brow.

"What is it, buddy?"

Zane coughed awkwardly. Amazing how even nindroids did that when they were nervous.

"This appears to be a letter addressed to Garmadon."

Lloyd's eyes widened, breath hitching. Abruptly his heart felt less like it was beating and more like it was trying to break itself out of his chest.

Dad.

It had been, safe to say, a little while since he'd thought about his father. The same father he'd gone through hell and back to finally have by his side, only to banish and then drown for good.

He'd kept himself good and busy, helping the team move base to the abandoned Temple of Airjitzu. Warded off the lingering pain from remembering, during the Day of the Departed, pretty well with dusting and heavy lifting and organizing what needed to be packed.

Lloyd had always done his best to draw strength from his father's memory. Like he'd told his mother during Day of the Departed: "Sometimes it feels like he's still with me."

It sure didn't feel like he was with Lloyd now.

"Lloyd?"

He blinked.

"Lloyd, you good?"

He looked over. Cole and the others were all watching him with concern, trying to gauge his reaction.

Quietly, he took a deep breath. He was supposed to have gotten past this. It wasn't supposed to still sting so much when he'd moved onto something healthier, more bittersweet than the more raw, consuming pain he'd known for a while.

Maybe the mansion's atmosphere was digging deeper than he'd thought, ripping open old wounds on top of slashing new ones.

"Yeah." Then, to ensure they couldn't press him about it, "Are you sure, Zane? Lemme see." Zane obliged, handing him the letter. Lloyd took it and held it up to the firelight, careful not to wrinkle the aged parchment, and skimmed it silently, feeling everyone's eyes still on him.

Having caught his reaction to Garmadon's name, they were probably a little surprised when he chuckled.

"What is it?" Skylor tilted her head. "What did they say?"

"It's just the first paragraph. Listen to this!" Clearing his throat, all too glad to focus on the letter, he read it, the ninja going from attentive listening to confused snickering as he did.

"My dearest friend, Garmadon, it seems fitting to start with the most important subject here—thanks a lot for letting me blunder into that whole mess, you absolute withered honeysuckle. I was delayed two whole days trying to firstly explain how I accidentally deposed a chieftess, and then restore some semblance of normalcy to the village. I don't," Lloyd had to catch his breath, barely managing to stop snickering long enough to finish the sentence, "I don't even know why we're still friends." "What in the world is this talking about?" Cole wheezed.

"Absolute withered honeysuckle," Jay mimicked, cracking up himself.

"Well. They were friends, we've learned that much," Skylor stated, desperately trying to regain a straight face.

"Absolute chums, from the sound of it. Just the best of buddies. Like you and me, huh, Cole?"

"If this whole 'accidentally deposed a chieftess' stuff is anything to go by," Cole said, still laughing, "they were even better."

"I wonder what they got up to if this was forty years ago." Zane set about tidying up the remaining letters and the bound book earlier held by Jay, probably figuring he might as well get it over with while they were all distracted. "Or who this was, to be so evidently close to Garmadon."

"Uh, am I the only one wondering what a honeysuckle is?"

Metaphorical crickets, much to Jay's chagrin.

"Just me? Okay."

A sigh. "They're flowers, Jay."

As the room got quiet enough to hear the crackling fireplace again, Lloyd went back to skimming the letter. The little smile that had lingered on his face fell flat again as he took in the words.

"What's the holdup?" Jay complained after a moment.

"Honestly, with the way this is written, if I read it verbatim you'd probably fall asleep," Lloyd muttered over the page. "Shut up and let me summarize."

"I … okay."

Lloyd squinted at the words. "This is an awful lot to take in. What's a … Shhh … Shuuuuravansha?"

"A what?" A confused chorus met his ears; evidently the rest of the room only knew about as much as he did.

"Maybe the word comes from the local language," Cole suggested. "I did hear a lot of the villagers speaking something I didn't recognize."

"Probably. Zane, you wouldn't happen to have that language in your databases or anything, would you?" Jay asked.

"I'm afraid not," Zane said apologetically. "What is the rest of the sentence, Lloyd? Perhaps the proper context will make it easier to guess."

"'I spoke with the Shuravansha and revised the contingency plans based on the information I got from them, as well as reports from you and our spies on the Serpentine's movement.' How do you even say that?"

"I guess the jury stays out on that one," Cole replied. "But I don't think that's a person. It says 'the Shuravansha'. I don't call Jay 'the Jay'; it'd be weird."

"So a group of some sort?" Jay suggested. "The word 'the' implies more than one."

"But it could be a title," Skylor pointed out. "Like 'the chief' or 'the sensei'."

"Either way, it reveals little about the nature of this Shuravansha," Zane said. "All that sentence gave us is that they had information about the Serpentine relevant to the author of this letter."

"Whatever it is, it's probably important," Lloyd muttered, rubbing his eyes and going back to the letter. "But maybe we'll find more clues about them later."

"Then we should remember it," Skylor muttered. "How do you spell that?"

He spelled it out and kept reading. The room went back to quiet anticipation, until Lloyd sputtered, squinted at something on the page, then looked up at them.

"What the heck, Cole?"

"Huh?" All eyes were now on a flabbergasted Cole. "Wh-what'd I do?!"

"I, it's not you, it's just — since when was the last master of earth a traitor?"

"Whoa whoa whoa, what?" Jay piped up. "That's kinda a heavy accusation to just bandy around!"

"What is this coming from, Lloyd?" Zane asked.

"It literally says right there, 'Earth went traitor on us'! There's only one way to read that!"

Skylor was scribbling like mad.

"Wha—well, don't look at me!" Cole said. "I don't know anything about this!"

"Maybe that's not all there is to it." It was difficult to see Skylor's eyes behind the shades. "My father turned the Anacondrai and the other tribes against humans to start the whole war in the first place. Then he turned the elemental masters against themselves."

"Maybe that was the case here too. Is there anything else about the master of earth, Lloyd?" Zane spoke up.

"Full sentence is 'The Constrictai among them can burrow, and ever since Earth, the weasel, went traitor on us, we lost our best protection against that tactic.' So they're really still talking about the Serpentine."

"Hmm."

"Mmmaybe we should go back to the rest of the letter?" Jay said tentatively.

"I dunno. I kinda wanna hear about this." Cole curiously poked his head closer, wanting to get a look at the letter. Lloyd drew back and immediately felt bad when Cole regarded him a moment before scooting back, hiding a yawn behind his hand.

Right. It was late.

"I mean, there isn't anything else in the letter about them … just the one sentence."

"Fine. What's the rest of it say, then? We really don't have the rest of the night here."

He had a point. Lloyd was pretty ready to be done with the letter and get some rest, by now.

"Wait a sec," Jay said. "'Went traitor on us.' Who's 'us'?"

"Oh." Cole's eyes widened. "Oh my god, you actually have a point. Yeah, that sounds an awful lot like … they called him 'Earth', not his name."

"How do you know that's not his name? Maybe his mom had a weird taste in names."

"... I'm pretty sure that wasn't his name, Jay."

"The word 'us' does seem to suggest camaraderie," Zane mused. "Given that and their knowledge of elemental power, perhaps they were acquainted with the elemental masters, or worked alongside them in some manner."

"That makes sense," Lloyd agreed, not looking up from the paper he held. "Or maybe they even were a master!"

"There's nothing to confirm it yet …" Skylor pointed out. "I'll just write down that they probably knew about the elemental masters. I think that's a safe conclusion."

"Fair enough," Zane said. "I think we should hear the rest of the letter now, before it gets much later. Lloyd?"

"Okay, so. Basically, my dad sent this person, whoever they are, info about Serpentine movement in the area. There were more loose gangs causing trouble than anything, they were just harder to predict because they weren't associated with the Anacondrai commanders. But according to them, the Southern Woodlands were in too strategic a location to risk—"

"Southern Woodlands?" Jay interrupted.

"That's probably what this forest is called. The villagers called it that on our way here."

"Yeah, I think I remember hearing that from someone," Cole said.

"Anyway. Like I was saying." Lloyd coughed pointedly and continued. "The Woodlands were too risky to leave unprotected because the thick plant life would give the Serpentine a naturally-sheltered base to recover and hide in. And they didn't have a lot of time left because … wait." The loopy handwriting in thick black ink cut off abruptly near the middle of the page, the last sentence never to be finished. "It just cuts off mid-sentence."

"Why did I ever think I'd have an easy time of this." Skylor sounded disappointed. "There wouldn't happen to be a name or anything at the bottom, would there?"

Lloyd shook his head. Of course there wasn't; that'd be too easy for them, now, wouldn't it?

"So why didn't they have time, exactly?" Jay said.

"An abrupt end of that nature would suggest some kind of interruption, would it not?" Zane said. "They never had the chance to finish writing this letter."

"If this is from the same era as everything else we've been seeing, then there was a war on. I imagine that'd do it," Cole said.

"Okay, but there's no signs of a fight in this room," Jay pointed out.

"... Ah. That is. Also true."

If he were a little less tired, Lloyd would've chuckled at Cole being caught off-guard without even a witty defense.

"I wonder what they were expecting not to have a lot of time for …" Lloyd wondered. "There's no signs of a fight here, but it's super messy everywhere else, especially downstairs. Maybe something happened there."

"And maybe it's related to the spirit." Cole ran a hand through his thick, messy hair, eyes dark. "There's no way something like that came out of nowhere."

"Given what we know, it is still impossible to gauge exactly what took place in this mansion," Zane said. "It does seem likely that the Serpentine activity this person mentioned had something to do with it, though. The only way to know for sure would be to find more information"

"So we don't know that, either," Jay muttered. "Write that down as a solid 'maybe', I guess."

Skylor nodded. "Anything else I should put down?"

Lloyd shook his head, and Skylor gratefully flipped the notepad closed and set it aside. Her words had actually begun to slur together with tiredness, so even if there were, he wasn't about to put her through writing it.

"Well, if that's all, then." Cole yawned, again. "Let's call it a day. How long's it been?"

"My internal clock is completely frozen," Zane sighed. "And PIXAL says she can't start it up without any connection to the outside world. But according to my timer, it's been approximately 15 hours since Jay woke me and Cole up to inform us Kai was missing."

Yep. Definitely time to wind down.

The mood dipped briefly at the mention of Kai, but Cole determinedly moved on to the topic of keeping watch, and whether they should do it tonight.

Eventually they decided that it definitely needed to stay, but split it up into two equal shifts. Two of them weren't even options to be considered. Lloyd offered to take shift, but given that he'd gotten out of a tough scrape with the spirit earlier and gone on both search expeditions, everyone else refused to let him, arguing he needed the rest. That left just Cole and Jay, but Cole, having gone through the mansion both times, was tired too. Jay would have to keep watch first.

Then came sleeping arrangements, which also worked themselves out quickly enough. Zane, for whatever reason, stayed in a corner to recharge, Skylor was on one bed, and whoever wasn't on shift would be sharing a bed with Lloyd.

"Alright, Jay, don't do anything stupid this time," Cole ribbed Jay, who was shifting around burnt kindling and trying to keep the little bit of fire left alive.

Jay stuck his tongue out.

"You have sooo much faith in me. Come on, I've learned my lesson here."

"Your timer's working, right? Make sure to wake me in … four hours?"

"Four and a half," Jay corrected him. "And yeah, I will."

"Cool. Night." And with that, Cole left him to his current task: striking a match onto a pile of kindling and hoping for a fire big enough to last.

Soon enough, everyone had bid each other goodnight and settled down.

Lloyd pulled his blanket a little closer to himself, still feeling a residual chill seep into his bones. With nothing to keep preoccupied with, ugly thoughts about the mansion, the horrors of its obscure history, their current conditions, his own utter incompetence, the way he'd just let Karlof get lost, Kai came creeping in far too readily. He tried to push them away.

Not now. Couldn't think about all of those things now or he'd never rest. Even tired, falling asleep was a challenge with sore limbs and unceasing nerves scratching away at him and a bitter resentment towards it all beginning to sink into his bones.

Lloyd closed his eyes regardless, trying to empty his mind. He could faintly hear Jay's breathing under the familiar crackle of the flames that were only too reminiscent of their missing piece.

Shadows twisted and danced on the walls.

Exhaustion won out eventually.

[saventhhaven]

Keep Talking

Pairing: implied Dean Winchester x reader

Tags: wounded!Dean, protective!reader, concerned!reader

Word Count: 1,735

(Gif not mine)

No matter how much pressure you put on the open wound, the blood just kept coming.

"Sam," you said weakly from the back seat. The Impala's engine gave a small rev from as Sam pushed his foot down harder on the gas pedal.

"I'm going as fast as I can, Y/N," he snapped. In any other scenario, you would have given him hell for talking to you like that, but right now, Sam's tone of voice was the last thing you were worried about.

"Would you two quit freakin' out?" Dean asked. You looked down at him, his head heavy in your lap. "I'm fine!" Had it not been for the deep slice on the right side of his torso, you might have believed him. Sam glanced up at you in the rearview mirror, asking you with his eyes if that was true; if Dean really was fine. Biting your lip, you gave him the most subtle shake of your head you could manage. No matter what you tried, you hadn't been able to get the bleeding to stop. If Dean didn't get stitches soon... Sam swore from the front seat as street signs whizzed by outside the windows.

Everything felt wrong. It was a beautiful day - the perfect type of weather for having the windows down - and here you were, trying to make sure Dean Winchester didn't die in your arms. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead as you rotated your flannel shirt, now soaked in red, to press a less saturated part against the wound. Dean's blood seeped between your fingertips as you pressed down. You bit down on your lip again, harder this time, as it started to wobble. This was your fault. You had lost focus for one second, and the ghoul had lunged at you. You hadn't seen it coming, but Dean had. You didn't even realize what was happening until it was too late. He had shoved you out of the way, but he hadn't been fast enough to deflect himself from the sonofabitch. Everything you knew about hunting had gone out the window. Your mind had gone blank. All you could focus on was the fact that Dean had just taken the fall for you. Sam was the one who had to finish it off.

You didn't realize how badly Dean was shaking until he laid his hand over yours.

"You are absolutely not fine," you said to him, your voice breaking. "You're shaking like a damn leaf and..." You trailed off when you saw the fresh blood quickly soaking your shirt again. Shaking your head vigorously, you looked up to the rearview mirror again. "Sam, it's not slowing down at all."

"Just keep pressure on it!"

"What do you think I'm doing back here?" Looking back down at Dean, your heart almost stopped. He was uncharacteristically pale, and his eyes were closed. You shook him hard, heart leaping into your throat. "Dean!" When he didn't respond, you gave him another shake. "Damn it, Dean, come on!" Your hand came down hard on his cheek, and the sharp sound of skin against skin resounded throughout the small space. Dean's eyes flew open, looking startled, and you gripped him tightly. "Don't do that," you scolded as relief flooded through you. But still, you weren't out of the woods just yet.

"I was just resting my eyes," Dean defended. You pushed down on the wound a little harder, earning a hiss of pain from him.

"Well, don't! We're almost back to the bunker, okay? I just need you to hold on a little bit longer." His eyes fluttered again, and you could see him straining to keep them open. This wasn't good. Okay, Y/N, think. "Hey, do you remember the time you thought I had a concussion?" He blinked hard.

"From the wraith or the poltergeist?"

"Poltergeist," you answered. Dean chuckled.

"I'm surprised you remember that. Hit your head pretty damn hard. Sam and I heard that loud-ass thunk from all the way on the other side of that house. We had to give you stitches for that, didn't we?"

"Yeah, but only a few." He snorted.

"Less than I'm gonna need, anyway." Your heart sank into your stomach. He was right. By the time the three of you got back to the bunker, it was still going to take some time to get the stitches finished. There was no telling how much more blood he was going to lose by then - or how much more he could afford to lose.

"You and Sam saved my ass that day," you added, trying to keep both his and your mind off of the deep slice in his torso. Dean gave your hand a small squeeze, which was incredibly reassuring.

"We've gotta look out for each other, Princess." Swallowing past the lump in your throat, you gave him a watery smile in return.

"Can you tell me that story?" you asked. "I think I remember less than I thought." Dean looked surprised but then nodded. You already knew this story, and you knew he did too, but anything that could keep him talking was good. When Sam caught your eye in the rearview mirror with a confused frown, you bobbed your head back at him, hoping your meaning was communicated - trust me. The older Winchester let out a sigh through closed lips.

"Uh... well, that one was in Pennsylvania," he began, his eyes already looking more alert as he worked to recall the information. You readjusted your shirt against the wound, almost entirely unnoticed by him. "And I could tell within five minutes of talking to the sheriff it was gonna be a rough one."

"You were right," you put in.

"Yeah, no shit," Dean snorted. "That poltergeist was one nasty sonofabitch. Probably the worst we've ever seen. I mean, they can usually throw things, physically manifest to attack, you know, the usual."

"Sure."

"But this was like next-level stuff," Dean continued. "That damn thing shook the house like it was a friggin' earthquake."

"Y/N." Upon hearing your name, you looked up, realizing that Sam was pulling into the bunker's garage. You rubbed Dean's shoulder in what you were hoping was a comforting gesture.

"All right, Winchester, we're back. Sam and I are gonna help you, but I need you to be ready to move, all right? We've gotta get you to the infirmary pronto," you explained. Giving you a wry smile, Dean snorted.

"'The infirmary?' What, are we in Harry Potter or something?" All traces of his teasing expression quickly faded away when he tried to sit up. About halfway through the motion, he froze as what little color he had left drained from his face. "Fuck!" he swore, biting back a groan.

"I've got you," you reassured as you supported him with a hand under his back. "You're doing great, Dean, you're already halfway up." Instinctively, he clasped your other hand in a death grip to work himself through the pain. "Come on, on three, all right? I've got you." When he was ready, he nodded, breaths coming quicker as he steeled himself. "One, two, three!" This time, there was no holding back the pained sound he made, and your heart broke for him. Dean rested his forehead against you as he panted heavily, trying to catch his breath. At least he was upright, and not a moment too soon. Sam had barely put the car in park when he got out of the driver's seat, opening the door closest to Dean and holding out his hand.

"All right, come on, buddy," he coaxed, trying to keep the urgency in his voice to a minimum. "We've gotta get you in there so Y/N and I can get you patched up."

With Sam's help, you got Dean down to the infirmary, hooked up to an IV, and ready for stitches in record time. You were aware that it would still take a few hours for the transfusion to take effect, but just knowing that Dean was going to get back the blood he lost was a weight off your mind.

"So," you said as you threaded the sanitized needle for his stitches.

"So?" he echoed.

"You never finished telling me that story." Dean nodded and heaved a sigh.

"Ah, that's right. Where was I?"

"House shaking like a damn earthquake," you reminded him. 

"Oh yeah, so, Sam and I were running all around that damn place looking for the poltergeist - and you. Anyway..." Dean wasted no time launching back into the story. In fact, he got so into it that when you pushed the needle under the skin of his toned torso, he barely even flinched. Although, that could have been attributed to the fact that he had done this many, many times before. 

Your timing really couldn't have been better. As he neared the end of the story, you had just finished closing up his wound. "And after we killed it, I went running over to you, because you know, you were still out cold. Sam and I couldn't wake you up at first, and the back of your head was bleeding." Dean looked at you, sincerely. "You scared the hell out of us that day, you know. But after we got you all stitched, you woke up." He chuckled to himself as he relived the memory. "I was so damn scared you had a concussion, I thought you were gonna go comatose if I let you fall asleep. So, I..." Realization dawned on his face, and he looked over at you in disbelief. "I made you retell stories about our old hunts all night, so you would stay awake." You smiled softly at Dean in response, before gently patting him on the uninjured portion of his torso.

"You're all good to go," you informed him. He grasped your hand, squeezing it.

"Would you mind staying here? Just for a bit." Reciprocating the small squeeze, you leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

"Dean, I'm staying here all night to make sure you're gonna be okay." He looked relieved but quickly cleared his throat to try and hide it.

"Well, I'm sure I will be, thanks to you and Sam." As you settled in for a long night, Dean interrupted your wandering thoughts. "Thanks, Y/N. Seriously." You smiled again.

"Don't mention it, Winchester."

Thank you for reading! I know my posting has been more sporadic than it usually is, so I appreciate you guys bearing with me while I work through school :)

As always, tags to my masterlist, taglist, and inbox are in my bio.

Requests are open!

Taglist:

@cole-winchester​ @alexwinchester23​ @1-am-made-of-stardust​ @thorukindig​ @fiftyshadesoffandom6783​ @hobby27​ @indigyptian @youshrimpdickfucknugget​

If there is a strikethrough on your username, it means I wasn’t able to tag you. If you don’t know how to fix it, shoot me a message and I’ll try to help :)

[pikapeppa]

Fenris/f!Hawke and the Inquisition: Holiday

Chapter 48 of Lovers In A Dangerous Time (i.e. Fenris the Inquisitor) is up on AO3, after a dreaded few-week hiatus! I’m launching into the Jaws of Hakkon DLC, which I LOVE SO MUCH. For anyone who hasn’t played it, you should still be able to follow along as long as you don’t mind spoilers. I hope you enjoy! 

Read on AO3 here instead; full chapter is >8500 words.

************************

A year and a half after Corypheus’s death…

Fenris shifted his feet and readied his stance. The ice was stinging the soles of his feet, but this was nothing he hadn’t suffered before; this was just another dragon, after all. Just another monstrous beast that spewed ice from its gaping maw. They had fought dragons before and always prevailed. This would be no different.

He ignored the rattling disquiet in his chest and settled his fingers more firmly on the handle of his sword. He glanced at the others. “You have your positions?” he shouted.

Cole, Dorian and Blackwall nodded. Scout Harding saluted him briskly, and Sera gave him a more playful salute. Bull shot him a bloodthirsty and oddly reassuring smile while Varric patted his crossbow. 

He glanced over at Hawke; her face was set and determined. When she met his eye, she smiled and blew him a kiss, and he released a slow breath and tried to return her smile. 

The dragon laughed, then let out an enormous, rib-rattling roar. It launched itself into the air and landed on the frozen lake in front of them just sixty paces away. Behind Fenris, Bull roared and charged toward the dragon. 

The others followed him, splitting off to attack the dragon from every angle, and Fenris lit his lyrium marks aglow. As he watched his companions attacking the monstrous dragon and dodging its frigid breath, valiantly placing themselves in danger for the umpteenth time tonight, one thought kept hammering at his weary mind.

I can’t do this anymore.

**********************

“Varric!” Hawke squealed. 

Fenris looked up to see Varric strolling through the research camp toward them. His face was lit with a smile, and Fenris couldn’t help but smile in return. 

Hawke bolted toward him wrapped him in a tight hug. “I’m so glad you arrived! I’ve missed my daily dose of gorgeous dwarven chest hair.” 

Varric chuckled as he returned her hug. “Have you been that bored without me? I was only gone for three months.”

“That’s two months longer than the last time you went to Kirkwall,” she retorted. “You know I can’t live for that long without your sarcasm and your cheating at cards.”

“By that, I’ll assume you mean my sharp wit and my charm,” Varric said smoothly. He shot Fenris a smirk as he drew near. “Has the broody one not been keeping you entertained enough?”

“Oh, he entertains me,” Hawke said lewdly. “But not in the same way as you.”

Fenris folded his arms. “Should I be flattered or insulted by that?”

She smiled winningly and looped her arm around his waist, and Varric patted Fenris’s elbow. “Good to see you, buddy.”

“And you as well, my friend,” Fenris said. “Rebuilding is going well? Kirkwall is still standing, I assume?”

Varric snorted. “That’s a bold assumption. Maybe I just managed to escape another disaster there.”

Hawke tutted. “Don’t be stupid. Disasters only happen in Kirkwall when I’m around.”

Fenris shot her a chiding look, but before he could reply, a smooth and jovial voice interrupted. “What was that I heard about disasters? Have you been having that much fun without me?”

They all looked up. Dorian was sashaying toward them wearing a very sharply tailored robe that practically screamed Tevinter Imperium.

“Dorian! You’re here!” Hawke cried. She flew toward him and hugged him hard. “This robe is fucking gorgeous. You look like the perfect evil magister.” She brushed his shoulders solicitously and beamed at him. “Getting into character, are you?”

“Exactly,” Dorian said with a grin. “Although I can’t deny that I’m enjoying access to proper Tevinter silk again.”

“I agree,” Bull said as he sauntered over in Dorian’s wake. He elbowed Dorian gently. “Your new silky underthings are pretty damned enjoyable.”

Dorian rolled his eyes and gave Hawke a long-suffering look. “Leave your handsome lummox of a lover for a few months and he becomes a depraved sex maniac.”

Bull grinned unrepentantly, and Hawke chuckled. Then Dorian gave Varric a mocking little bow. “Varric! Still as swarthy as ever, I see. And how could I forget our handsome and fearless leader?” He grinned at Fenris and held out a hand. “How are you, my friend?”

Fenris smirked and shook his hand. “I have no complaints. Or at least I didn’t before I saw your robe.”

Dorian laughed merrily. “Ah, I missed you too. Now come, fill me in on everything. And by that, I mean you, Hawke. I do so miss our daily gossip sessions.”

“I think you should start us off, Sparkler,” Varric said. “Last I heard, you were tied up in some kind of political intrigue in Minrathous?”

Dorian tutted. “That’s putting it mildly. Maevaris and I have been taking quite a few hits from the magisterium recently–”

“Hits?” Fenris said sharply.

Dorian waved a dismissive hand. “The usual sort of thing. Assassination attempts, an attempted poisoning here and there, even an attack by a bound spirit or two. You know how it is.”

“I do, unfortunately,” Fenris said quietly. 

Dorian gave him a kindly look. “Don’t you worry. That’s why I’m here. Maevaris and I are pretending that we’re at odds at the moment, you see. The magisters will think they’ve scared us into submission, and meanwhile we’ll regroup in the shadows.” He nodded to Hawke. “It’s perfect timing that you suggested this little holiday, in fact. It suits me to be away from my dear homeland at the moment.”

Varric snorted. “‘Holiday’. That’s not exactly what I’d call a wander through the untamed wilderness.” 

Hawke gave him a pleading look. “Oh come on, Varric, it’s going to be wonderful, I promise! The Frostback Basin is so gorgeous with the trees and the flowers and the toadstools and all that–”

“Hawke,” Varric interrupted.

She blinked at him. “Yes?

He gave her a pointed look. “You remember who you’re talking to, right?”

She widened her eyes. “What do you mean?”

Fenris cleared his throat. “I believe he means that the two people who came the farthest to be here are the same two who hate the outdoors the most.” He gestured at Dorian and Varric. 

“He’s not wrong,” Varric drawled.

“He really isn’t,” Dorian said. 

Hawke sighed dramatically and gave Fenris a chiding look. “Listen, I know they’re indoor boys, but I didn’t want to point out that they came all this way just to spend time with you and I. It would hurt Bull’s feelings, and he’s standing right there.”

Dorian and Varric chuckled, and Bull gave her a playful little push. “Thanks, little Hawke.”

Hawke snickered and hugged his arm. Then Dorian tilted his head. “You know, that raises the question. Where are the rest of our sorry little crew? I’m rather offended they aren’t here to greet–”

“Your clothes are very shiny,” Cole said. 

To Fenris’s amusement, Dorian jumped. “Cole!” he exclaimed. He released a little breath, then smiled at the spirit-boy. “How I’ve missed your unannounced appearances. In fact, I brought you something.” He reached into the inner pocket of his tailored robe and handed Cole a gift. 

It was a fine ebony comb decorated with an elaborate pattern of mother-of-pearl. Cole peered at it, then looked at Dorian. “What is it?”

“It’s a comb,” Dorian explained. “For your hair. So you needn’t wear that hat anymore.”

Cole blinked. “What’s wrong with my hat?”

Varric chuckled and patted Cole’s elbow. “Nice to see that nothing’s changed.” 

A moment later, Blackwall and Sera joined them, and Blackwall clapped Varric on the shoulder. “Varric! Good to see you!” he said. He nodded politely to Dorian. “Dorian, you look well.”

“As do you,” Dorian said equally politely. “Did you wash your hair? It suits you.”

Blackwall snorted. Then Sera leapt on Dorian’s back. “Now you’re here, we can have some real fun!” she announced. “Beardy and I were down on the beach and there’s these little tiny crabs, see, and–”

“The answer is no,” Dorian interrupted. “Whatever it is, it’s no.”

Sera pouted, and Hawke and Blackwall laughed. They continued to banter and chat as they made their way through the research camp toward Scout Harding, and Fenris enjoyed the familiar novelty of his companions’ talk.

It had been several months since they’d gone on an expedition like this. He and Hawke had been holed up at Skyhold since just before Varric had left, and before that they’d been stationed at Caer Bronach in Crestwood for a number of weeks dealing with some lingering darkspawn and trying to help the still-recovering village while simultaneously appeasing the Fereldan nobles about the Inquisition’s ongoing presence at the caer. Before that, it was a few months at Skyhold and a few at the Griffon’s Keep, a seemingly never-ending cycle of negotiations and meetings and soothing ruffled feathers and trying to muster coin out of thin air… 

Fenris ran a weary hand through his hair as he thought about the multiple problems that he had yet to address when he returned to Skyhold. During the first chaotic year after the Conclave disaster, Fenris hadn’t enjoyed the constant travel and the constant errands. But now that he’d spent an entire year mired in cross-continental politics following Corypheus’s death, he was only just realizing how good he’d had it when his primary duties were fighting and recruitment. Travelling from Ferelden to Orlais, asking people to join the Inquisition, killing demons and closing rifts: that was a simpler time, far simpler than trying to navigate the weblike intricacies of Orlesian and Fereldan and Free Marcher and Chantry politics without stepping on anyone’s toes and without overstepping his own authority – an authority that many people seemed to take for granted, and which Fenris was growing increasingly uneasy about. 

This is probably a bad sign, he thought. To be feeling wistful about the days when they’d been fighting demons and Venatori and darkspawn? And to think that during those days, he’d been wistful for the two years prior when he and Hawke had been on the run from the Chantry. 

He sighed. Was there ever going to be a time when he would be able to simply enjoy his life instead of wishing wistfully for a different part of it?

Hawke interrupted his melancholy thoughts. “This is nice, isn’t it?” she said.

“Hm?” he said distractedly. “Er, yes. It is.”

She studied his face for a moment, then twined her fingers with his. “It’s going to be a good holiday. I promise.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “You keep calling this a holiday as though it’s not still Inquisition business.”

“I know, but it’s low-pressure business!” she said. “Tracking down the last Inquisitor’s body and fighting some angry Avvar? It’s basically a cake walk, you’ll see.”

Fenris gave her a fond but exasperated look. “This is going to be like the times you convinced us to go camping on the Wounded Coast, isn’t it?”

“Which time?” she asked.

“Every time,” he said dryly.

She tutted and poked his arm. “Oh, don’t complain about that. You liked camping. Admit it.”

“I didn’t mind the camping,” Fenris said. “I minded the giant spiders. And the slavers. And the murderers trying to hide bodies—”

“I suppose I can’t promise no giant spiders,” Hawke said loudly. “But Harding did mention treehouses! That sounds fun, no?”

Fenris huffed. “Treehouses to escape the giant spiders, I presume?”

“Exactly,” she said cheerfully. “See, it’s going to be fun.”

Her smile was so bright and lovely, and she was so obviously determined to have a good time – or rather, to show Fenris a good time. This so-called holiday was not only her way to see Dorian and Varric again, but her attempt to drag Fenris away from the stress of Inquisition politics for at least a little while. 

In the last few weeks especially, Hawke had been appearing more frequently with snacks and cups of coffee in the war room or wherever Fenris happened to be working, offering to help him by forging his signature or writing letters to tell people to bugger off. She was always cheerful when she appeared, always chatting and laughing as was her norm. But Fenris knew she was worried about how hard he was working with the advisors, as well as with Cassandra all the way in Val Royeaux. 

There was nothing he could do to assuage Hawke’s worries, though. He was trapped in his role, trapped in this position of authority and guidance, and he had no choice but to keep doing what he was doing and hoping that things would eventually calm down.

Hawke squeezed his hand again. “It’ll be fun, Fenris. We’ll have a good time here, you’ll see.” 

He nodded. Then Dorian’s loud voice drew their attention. “Ah, my dear Lady Lace! Just who I was hoping to see.” 

Fenris looked up to see Dorian gallantly bowing to Scout Harding. He gave her a hopeful smile. “You wouldn’t happen to have any spare boots for a handsome young man, would you?” 

“Sure she does,” Sera said. “Might even have a pair for you.” She cackled, and Dorian tsked at her.  

Harding smiled and folded her arms. “Nice to have you back, Dorian. I assume Fenris and Hawke told you and Varric why we’re here?”

“They did,” Varric said. “The search for the mysterious Inquisitor Ameridan, who disappeared eight hundred years ago.” He gave Hawke a knowing look. “I’m ready to take notes in case I can use this for my next book.”

Hawke slung an arm around his shoulders. “I’d be extremely disappointed if you weren’t.”

Harding turned to Fenris. “Professor Kenric’s been itching to talk to you again. He should be around here somewhere–” 

“Inquisitor!” The Starkhaven professor hurried over to them with an eager smile. “I’m glad you’re here, and with an entire scouting expedition at your side – that’s brilliant, you’ll have many more eyes to collect observations!” Kenric bowed hastily to their party, then turned back to Fenris. “Now, you’ll recall I told you about the buckles I found–”

“Er, buckles?” Varric said.

“They’re also shiny,” Cole said knowledgeably, and Hawke fondly patted his shoulder.

“Yes, buckles,” Kenric said excitedly. “They’re often overlooked by the average person, but in the study of ancient artifacts, they’re absolutely crucial, since other materials like cloth and leather will have rotted away – barring enchantments, of course.” He looked at Fenris with wide eyes. “I’ve found evidence that Inquisitor Ameridan was involved in a fight on the shore not far to the south.” He held out his hand. In his gloved palm was a bent metal clasp. 

“This is consistent with armour links,” he said. “It’s clearly torn. That only happens from a heavy shearing blow, like large claws or an ax.” He then pulled an item from a pouch at his waist and lovingly unwrapped it from its protective silk covering.

“Then there’s this dagger,” he said. “Silverite, with a stylized dragon pommel and inscription reading ‘Kordillus’. This had to be a gift to Ameridan from Kordillus Drakon, the first Emperor of Orlais. No one would just lose such a thing.” Kenric looked around at them all. “There was some sort of battle near the shoreline,” he explained. “Ameridan and his companions were in a hurry, hence the dropped dagger. Lady – er, Scout Harding’s people reported an island near an Avvar fishing camp on the shore. The friendly Avvar, that is, not those Jaws of Hakkon barbarians.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “The locals won’t say much about the island, though. Likely a local superstition.”

“Hmm,” Varric said. “An interrupted battle and an ominous island? We’re off to a great start.”

Fenris smirked at him. “Is that sarcasm? I can’t quite tell.”

“Neither can I,” Varric said dryly.

Hawke tutted and poked them both. “Oh come on, it is a great start! I’m intrigued! Who wants to go to this mystery island?” She raised her hand. “I know I do.”

Fenris gazed at her fondly. She was trying so hard to be upbeat, and he loved her for it.

He lazily raised a hand. “I do as well.”

Blackwall straightened. “I’d be honoured to come.”

Sera elbowed him. “Not leaving me behind, you’re not.”

“I’ll come too,” Bull said. “I hear the hunting is good along the southern shore. The creatures here are fierce.” He grinned. 

Dorian patted his arm. “You are such a brute, amatus.”

Hawke clasped her hands together and beamed at them all. “Fantastic! Off we go, then!” She looped her hands through Sera and Blackwall’s elbows, and together they made their way out of the research camp and toward the southern shore. 

Fenris had to admit the Frostback Basin really was quite scenic; the terrain was hilly and liberally scattered with toadstools and large exotic flowers, just as Hawke had said. The trees were enormous, some of them bigger than the ones in the Arbour Wilds, and the vegetation ranged from tall flowing grasses to full-bodied ferns to vines that hung in long green ropes from the trees. The same brilliant multicoloured birds that lived in the Arbour Wilds also lived here, and their sharp calls contrasted with the rushing flow of the river that wended its way vaguely from the north and down toward the southern shore where they were headed. 

As they made their way toward the fishing camp, Varric, Cole, and Dorian fell into step next to Fenris. Dorian grimaced slightly as he stepped over a pile of feces. “So explain this Jaws of Hakkon business, then,” he said to Fenris. “Who are these fellows, and why did the professor call them barbarians?”

“There are two groups of Avvar here,” Fenris said wearily. “One group has been friendly, but the other group attacks any Inquisition soldier or scout who draws near. We spent some time yesterday fighting them. They have mages, and they’re in possession of some rather chilling magic.”

“Chilling, yes,” Cole said. “Cold, cooling, crawling across the skin.” He blinked at Fenris. “Was that a joke?”

Fenris eyed him in surprise. “I… didn’t mean it to be. But yes, I suppose it was a pun.”

“Hey,” Varric said in surprise. “The kid recognized a pun! That’s good progress, Cole, I’m proud.” 

Dorian tutted impatiently. “Yes, yes, Cole is gaining a sense of humour. That’s lovely. Do we know why these magic-wielding Jaws of Hakkon are trying to kill us at every turn?”

Fenris shrugged, and Varric chuckled. “It really is like old times, then. Well, we might as well enjoy it.”

Fenris shot him a sardonic look. “You? Enjoy the wilderness?”

Varric smirked. “I know, I know. But as much as I hate this wilderness shit, I’m kind of glad to be away from Kirkwall right now. Things are getting a little heavy.”

“Everything but your coin purse, it seems,” Dorian said. “From what Bull tells me, you’ve really been emptying your pockets for the city.”

Varric shrugged and waved dismissively. “Ah, you know. It’s no big thing. I’ve gotta use the royalties from my books somehow, right? Might as well be for that.”

Fenris nodded sagely. Varric could pretend to be casual about all the restoration funding he was pouring into Kirkwall, but Fenris had spent enough time discussing the Inquisition’s finances with Josephine to know that the Kirkwall rebuilding efforts had to be extortionately expensive. 

Varric’s investments weren’t really a surprise, though. Fenris knew how Varric really felt about Kirkwall. Despite the city’s many flaws and the ugly personal history they had there, Kirkwall was Varric’s home. If Varric wanted to feign casualness about his restoration efforts, however, Fenris could give him that.

He shrugged. “Fair enough,” he said. “Are you coming back to Skyhold after this so-called holiday?”

Varric hesitated, and Fenris gave him a careful look. “You’re… you’re not coming back?”

Varric tugged his beringed ear, and Fenris raised his eyebrows. “When did you decide this?”

Varric sighed. “Look, it… it wasn’t really my decision. I–”

At that moment, Hawke bounded over and slung her arms around Varric’s shoulders and Fenris’s waist. “So Varric, if you’re taking notes about this Ameridan business, you need to know all the lovely scandalous rumours that Kenric told us.”

Varric shot Dorian and Fenris a quick warning look, then smiled at Hawke. “Go on, I’m listening.”

“Well,” Hawke said, “one rumour is that–”

Fenris interrupted. “Shouldn’t you tell him the facts first?”

Hawke sighed loudly. “But that’s boring… fine, fine, you tell him the facts.”

Fenris looked at Varric. “Ameridan went missing around the time that the Nevarran Accord was signed, in 1:20 Divine or thereabouts. No one knows why he went missing. He was a close friend of Drakon the First–”

“Who sounded like an utter asshole, by the way,” Hawke interjected. 

Dorian laughed. “You think the first Emperor of Orlais was an asshole? That’s a bold statement.”

Hawke shrugged carelessly. “Well, I’m no historian, but look what he did. He made a huge army and went wiping out all the little religions and spreading his Andrastianism all over the place. Sounds rather like an asshole move to me. Anyway, go on, Fenris.”

Fenris shrugged. “That’s it. Those are all the facts we know about Ameridan.”

Varric raised his eyebrows. “You’re kidding. That’s it? No further backstory?”

“See, this is where the fun stuff comes in,” Hawke said gleefully. “Some people think Ameridan was a lazy noble who just got to be the Inquisitor because he was Drakon’s friend, and he disappeared after going drinking and wenching and so on. Other people think Drakon had him killed because he opposed the Nevarran Accord–”

“–which seems unlikely,” Fenris put in, “since Ameridan was in power with Drakon’s blessing for many years before his disappearance. It’s unlikely that he disagreed with the Nevarran Accord.”

“Right,” Hawke said. “But here’s my favourite rumour. Some people think Ameridan had a secret lover who was a mage. Can you imagine?” she said with relish. “The ancient Inquisitor, famous demon and apostate hunter in the days of early Andrastianism, having a mage for a lover?”

Varric snorted in amusement. “Let me guess. You think they ran away together.”

“I certainly fucking hope so,” Hawke said. “That would be a nice happy ending, if you ask me.” She put on a playful storytelling voice. “‘Once upon a time, the Inquisitor decided that the newborn Chantry was full of shit. He took his mage lover by the hand, and they ran off into the sunset together to live a peaceful and happy life. The end.’” She patted Varric’s shoulder. “Feel free to give me a writing credit in your inside cover. I won’t mind.”

Varric and Dorian chuckled, but Fenris didn’t laugh. The Inquisitor running away with his mage lover to live a peaceful and happy life… 

Cole’s voice grabbed their attention. “They need help!” he cried.

They all looked up. They weren’t far from the fishing camp, but fifty paces ahead, Bull and Blackwall and Sera were engaged in a fight with a group of Hakkonites.

“Let’s go,” Fenris said, and they bolted toward the fight. It was fairly brief; the Hakkonite warriors were outnumbered by Fenris’s party, and in a few short minutes, their foes were dead. 

Dorian curiously studied the dead Hakkonite mage’s staff. “This is fascinating,” he said to Hawke. “There’s a piece of ice embedded in the head of the staff. Did you see this?” 

“It’s strange, right?” Hawke said as she crouched beside him. “I saw this on another mage’s staff yesterday. Crazier yet, the ice doesn’t melt. I think it’s helping their chilling spills to be more effective. We should break down their spell later tonight so we can try and recreate it ourselves…”

Sera pulled a face. “Magey-mage magic, ugh. Any fish stew in there?” She scampered away toward the cooking fire outside the Avvar fishing camp.

Fenris, meanwhile, smiled faintly at Dorian and Hawke. He knew that Hawke had been missing her magical discussions with Dorian, especially since he’d taken on the role of her primary magical confidant after Solas’s disappearance over a year ago. 

As always, Fenris shunted aside the hint of resentment and suspicion he felt at the thought of Solas. He turned to Varric. “Care to join me and chat with the locals?” he said with a nod to the Avvar. “I may need your silver tongue.”

“Aw, you really know how to flatter a guy,” Varric drawled. Together they went to speak to the Avvar fishermen.

Some twenty-odd minutes later, under direction of the fishermen, Fenris and his companions were making their way up the winding path that led to the friendly Avvar’s settlement. Just as Kenric had surmised, it seemed that the locals thought the island was occupied by spirits who were better left alone, and thus they would need the Avvar leader’s permission to travel there.

As they approached the settlement, Fenris nodded politely to each Avvar they passed. Their answering nods or murmurs of ‘lowlander’ were equally polite, but Fenris noted something strange: their eyes lingered on the glowing mark on his left hand, but not with the same fear or awe that he usually saw in people’s faces. Instead, the Avvar simply seemed curious. 

Odd, he thought. Nevertheless, he loosely closed his fist as they moved further into the settlement. 

The sound of cheering and shouting soon met his ears, and Hawke chuckled. “Oh my. Looks like we came just in time to see a nice display of male athletics.” She elbowed Dorian salaciously. 

Sure enough, two half-clad young men were vaulting up a sheer cliff wall while a crowd yelled and clapped. On a nearby platform, a stern-faced and rangy woman who matched the fishermen’s description of their leader was standing next to a tall and muscled man, and Fenris frowned in surprise: the tall man’s body-paint matched that of the Jaws of Hakkon. 

Bull grunted. “That’s strange. Didn’t expect to see a Hakkonite here.”

“It is odd,” Fenris agreed quietly. “We should find out what’s going on.” 

Before they could approach the platform, the Hakkonite descended and swaggered toward them. He sneered at Fenris. “This is not my hold, lowlander,” he said. “I will not shed your blood here. You will face the full might of the Jaws of Hakkon soon enough.” Without waiting for a response, he strode away. 

Hawke huffed at the Hakkonite’s departing back. “Bugger yourself, why don’t you?” she muttered. Then she smiled at Fenris. “Shall we go introduce ourselves to their leader?”

A fresh burst of cheering rose from the assembled crowd. The rangy woman was shouting now to the climbing men, who were standing at the top of the cliff. Fenris nodded to Hawke and made his way to the platform. 

He eyed the rangy woman with some suspicion as they approached. She had been associating with the Hakkonite, after all. When she turned to face them, however, her expression was neutral, but her tone of voice was welcoming. 

“You are the Inquisitor,” she said, with a casual glance at Fenris’s hand. 

“I am,” he said cautiously. “My name is Fenris.”

She nodded. “We heard tell of your arrival. I am Svarah Sun-Hair, Thane of Stone-Bear Hold.” She stepped off of the platform and gestured for them to follow her. “Come share my fire, where we might speak.”

She led them to a warm and well-lit cave that featured a large circular firepit and a rugged throne covered in furs. She gestured politely for them to sit on the furs around the fire, then seated herself on the throne and eyed them all with the same brand of warm curiosity that seemed to be common among the Avvar. “You and your people have come far from the safety of the lowlands,” she said.

“Yes,” Fenris said. “We are searching for the previous Inquisitor, in fact. It is said that he died somewhere near here hundreds of years ago.” 

Svarah nodded in approval. “Giving peace to the dead is a worthy quest. Any help we can offer is yours. Sadly, the Jaws of Hakkon will not offer so warm a welcome.” She settled back in her seat and gave Fenris a wry look. “You met their thane, Gurd Harofson. I wager you have crossed blades with his people in the wilderness. If you would search this place for your Inquisitor’s body, they will want you to pay in blood.”

“Why is that, if I may ask?” Dorian said. “It’s not unusual for people to hate us, but it’s nice sometimes to know the reason why.”

Svarah huffed – whether in amusement or disgust, Fenris couldn’t tell. “A fair question,” she said. “Our people believe that a wise man honours each god to its strength: Bjorn Reedbeard for fishing, Rilla of the Fireside for making babies. The Hakkonites care only for Hakkon Wintersbreath, god of war and winter.”

Bull chuckled. “He sounds like a nice guy.”  

“There is no evil in Hakkon,” Svarah told him seriously. “There are times to fight. But the Jaws of Hakkon care for nothing else. They raid, they fight; eventually they die, and their stories are forgotten. It is the way of things.” She waved a dismissive hand. “They are not the first hold to take that name. All have been foolish.”

Fenris raised his eyebrows. “They’re not the first? There were others?”

Hawke shrugged at this. “I guess that makes sense. We’re not the first Inquisition, after all.”

Fenris tilted his head; she had a point. Then Svarah answered his question. “There was another group who called themselves the Jaws of Hakkon, many ages ago. They thought of nothing but slaughter-glory. They attacked the lowlanders, and your people fought back and destroyed them.” She shrugged unconcernedly. “They were fools.”

Blackwall sat forward with a small frown. “And the group led by this Gurd Harofson? Are they fools as well?” 

“They are,” Svarah said. “They have forgotten the old ways. They came here a few years ago, after the Blight took their hold. There was land enough for both us and them, so we were friendly.” She sighed. “We did not see their anger. But Gurd Harofson lost too many in his hold to darkspawn. He thinks only of battle and war.” She gave them all a serious look. “To avenge a wrong is a good thing, but only a fool lights the world on fire to do it.”

Fenris raised his eyebrows at this sage statement, and they were all quiet for a moment. 

Then Hawke sat up on her knees. “Svarah – can I call you Svarah?” 

The thane nodded, and Hawke smiled. “Svarah, these Jaws of Hakkon… As you said, they’ve been hassling our people, and all we want to do is find our poor dead Inquisitor and bring him home. Is there any way we could persuade you to help us keep the Jaws of Hakkon off our backs?”

Svarah rubbed her chin. “Bathing my blade in the blood of the Hakkonites would be cause for a feast for most in this hold… but we have pledged peace with them. To attack with lowlanders at our side would make us oathbreakers. This is poor weather for me to ask that of my hold.” 

Hawke nodded slowly. “Is there anything we can do to, er, improve the weather for you?” 

For the first time, a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Svarah’s lips. “Sharp of wit, you are. Who are you?”

Hawke smiled. “Oh, I’m Rynne! Rynne Hawke, the Inquisitor’s wife.” She patted Fenris’s thigh. “But everyone just calls me Hawke.”

“Hawke,” Svarah said thoughtfully. “Hawks are fine birds and worthy hunters. I hope you live up to the name.”

Hawke laughed. “So do I, believe me.”

Svarah smirked again, then shifted in her seat. “There is a matter you can assist us with. If you did, I would be grateful.”

“Of course,” Hawke said without hesitation – to Fenris’s mixed exasperation and amusement. “How can we help?”

“Among the Avvar, a hold draws strength from its hold-beast,” Svarah said “They are as kin to us. When our hold-beast is strong and happy, there’s joy. When it sickens and dies, it is an ill omen.” She looked at Fenris seriously. “Our bear, Storvacker, has not been seen in days. The hold fears for her. I cannot ask the hold to break peace-oaths unless Storvacker returns.”

“She a tiny bear?” Sera said. 

Svarah looked at her in surprise. “No. Storvacker is a mighty hunter. Why do you ask?”

Sera shrugged. “Just thinking why your people can’t find her.”

Svarah raised an eyebrow. “A great hunt for our hold-beast would show weakness to the Hakkonites, that’s why. But if you lowlanders happen to find her…” She shrugged. 

Dorian winced. “I hate to ask, but… are you certain your hold-beast isn’t, er, dead?”

Svarah shook her head. “If she were dead, the augur would know.”

“Augur?” Fenris asked. 

Svarah nodded. “He gives counsel and shares the will of the gods with us. Speak to him if you would know more.”

“All right,” Hawke said affably. “We’ll speak to your augur, find Storvacker, and then maybe the sun will come out, so to speak.” She gave Svarah a charming smile.

Svarah huffed in amusement. “Find Storvacker, and we will speak again. In the meantime, feel free to look around our hold.”

Hawke’s eyes widened. “We can look around?”

“You have guest-welcome here,” Svarah said. “Speak with my people and learn our ways, if you would spare the time.”

Hawke grinned at Fenris, and he smirked at her in fond exasperation. Of course Hawke would be thrilled at the thought of making friends with a new group of strangers. 

He turned to Svarah and bowed his head. “You have my thanks. For the welcome, and for the information.”

Varric leaned toward him. “The island, remember?” he muttered.

“Ah. Right,” Fenris said. That had, after all, been the point of all this. 

He looked to Svarah again. “We had hoped to borrow a boat to go to the island off the southern shore, but one of the fishermen said we needed your blessing.”

To Fenris’s surprise, Svarah snorted and waved a careless hand. “Bah, Rolfsen. He worries like a scared baby goat. The boat is yours. Tell him I said so.”

Fenris bowed his head once more. “Thank you. We will speak again.”

Svarah nodded in farewell as they rose to their feet. “Lady keep you,” she said. 

They filed out of the cave, and Varric folded his arms and smirked at Hawke. “So if we’d just straight-out asked for the boat, she would have lent it to us without us having to search for their bear.”

She held up her hands. “I know, I know, I’m sorry! It was like an impulse, I couldn’t help it!” She gave Fenris a wheedling look. “But on the plus side, this will be funny. Finding a bear? What a lark, right?”

Fenris rubbed his mouth to hide his smile, and Dorian grimaced. “Did we ask whether it was a friendly bear? We, er, didn’t ask, did we?”

Hawke pulled a little face. “Oops.”

Bull chuckled and tweaked Dorian’s collar. “It’s a good thing your robe is black, kadan. It’ll hide the blood well.”

Dorian curled his lip. “The only one who will be getting bloody is anyone who dares to soil this damned robe.”

Hawke barked out a laugh and slung an arm around Dorian’s neck. “Come on, you beautiful fools, let’s explore and make some friends.”

“Let’s find this augur,” Fenris said pointedly. “He can tell us where to start looking for the bear.” 

Hawke winked at him. “You’ve got it, handsome. Now come on, last one to eat a weird foreign treat is a rotten egg!” She grabbed Sera’s hand and pulled her toward the nearest group of Avvar. 

They wandered through the settlement, and half of their party drifted away to inspect the craftsmen’s tables and speak to the locals. Fenris watched fondly as Hawke flirted and chatted with every person they passed, making even the most grim-faced warriors smile. She cheerfully introduced Fenris to everyone she met, and Fenris continued to feel bemused by the lack of fear or worry in their faces as they stared openly at his flickering left palm.

As Fenris, Hawke, Dorian and Cole made their way up the path to the augur’s cabin, Dorian remarked on the Avvar’s strangely calm response to his hand. “Do you suppose it’s because they don’t understand what it does?” he said. 

“No, they’re aware,” Fenris said. One person had openly – and very casually – said that Fenris was the one who’d closed the Breach.

“You know what’s really odd?” Hawke said. “Some of the people here don’t really seem surprised by you. It’s almost like they expected you. Not in a ‘we foretold your coming’ sort of way, but in a ‘oh, you’re that fellow’ sort of way, if that makes sense.”

Cole nodded vaguely. “The augur knew, so they know. They follow, flickering, feeling, fluttering along the Fade, and he listens.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow. “I assume you don’t mean the Avvar are following Fenris in the Fade.”

Cole shook his head. “They’re curious,” he said. “They want to know how it feels to be real.”

Hawke raised an eyebrow. “You’re talking about spirits?”

Cole smiled in an absent sort of way. Hawke, Fenris, and Dorian exchanged a nonplussed look, and Hawke shrugged. “Well, let’s hope this augur fellow can clear things up.”

Fenris knocked on the augur’s cabin door, and a rich, deep voice called out from within. “Enter!”

He cautiously opened the door, then stopped short. A large man in furs was standing on the far side of a firepit, which contained a merrily dancing fire – bright green fire that gave off no heat. 

The firepit was full of veilfire. Suddenly Fenris understood: the augur was a mage. 

He frowned slightly and sidled into the hut so Hawke, Dorian and Cole could come inside, and Hawke gazed admiringly at the firepit. “Wow,” she breathed. “I’ve never seen such a big veilfire flame before.”

The augur smiled at Fenris. “So he arrives. Come, come.” He ushered Fenris closer.

Fenris took a cautious step toward him, then stopped once more. The air around the augur was flickering and dancing with light – light that was vaguely in the shape of people…

Wraiths, he thought in alarm. The cabin was full of wraiths. Stranger yet, the augur seemed happy about their presence.

He wasn’t the only one. “Hello!” Cole said cheerfully.

The wraiths drifted toward Fenris, and he tensed instinctively. Why were the spirits approaching him? Was the augur making them do that?

Hawke took his hand, and he tried to force himself to relax. Dorian, meanwhile, was eyeing the wraiths with interest. “They’re not… harmful,” he said. “I don’t think.” 

The wraiths drifter closer to Fenris, and the augur held up his hands. “Don’t throng,” he said reprovingly. 

The wraiths stopped and drifted back toward the augur, and Fenris released his breath. Then the augur raised his arms ceremoniously. “Behold, worthy ones! The man who blazes like fire and mends the air.” He smiled and placed one hand on his chest. “I am the augur of Stone-Bear Hold. I greet you, as do our gods and the gods of our ancestors.”

The wraiths flickered brightly for a moment, then disappeared altogether. The augur sighed in satisfaction. “There! It is done. Now come, be welcome! I would hear news of the north.”

Fenris release Hawke’s hand and frowned at the augur. “You summoned these spirits?”

“The gods of the hold clamoured to see you,” the augur replied. “I obeyed, for I am their voice and their augur.” He chuckled and folded his arms. “And if I didn’t show you off, they would hound me for months.”

Fenris raised his eyebrows. Not a summoning, then, but a… a visitation? 

He gestured at the veilfire. “You keep this burning on purpose to help the spirits to cross the Veil?”

The augur nodded. “I take counsel from the gods and share it with the hold. I make their will known to us, and ours to them. Their will comes to us from the Fade, and the veilfire helps me to hear it.”

“Gods from the Fade…” Hawke said slowly. She looked at the augur with wide eyes. “Your gods are spirits. The Avvar pray to spirits?”

“We offer to them,” the augur corrected. “We don’t pray like the lowlanders to a creator they think will weather all the ages.”

Hawke held up her hands. “No judgment from me. I don’t pray to anyone.” 

“Respecting the gods of your hold takes little effort,” the augur told her kindly. “They protect the hold. They help drive off spirits who have gone bad with rage or gloom.” He raised his hands to the air once more. “The gods live with us. Ignore their offerings, offer them nothing, and it weakens us all.” 

Dorian stroked his chin. “Do you actually think the spirits are gods, though? That they’re more than just creatures of the Fade?”

A small crease appeared between the augur’s eyebrows. “The spirits watched us even before we came from the north. They shaped themselves into our gods, and we grew to love them. Their secret gift is this: they reflect us as water does the sky. They show us what we wish to be. That image gives us strength. For that, we thank the gods.”

Hawke turned to them excitedly. “That’s like what Solas used to say, remember? He was all, ‘spirits are what we expect them to be. If you expect them to be demons, that’s what they’ll become.’” She smiled at the augur. “You all expect the spirits to be helpful and wise, so that’s how they are to you.”

“The spirits harbour wisdom in many forms,” he said. “They offer much to those who offer respect in return.”

Hawke nodded affably. “That makes complete sense. Be nice, and they’ll be nice back.” She patted Cole’s arm. “Sounds about right, don’t you think?”

“Kindness, learning, sharing across the Veil,” Cole said with a nod. “It’s very nice.”

The augur looked at Cole, and his eyes widened. “Who is this one?” he said keenly. “He has blood and bone, but… there are bonds about his form.”

“Yes,” Cole said. “I am Compassion. I know that now. I want to be here.”

The augur bowed deeply to him. “Well, this is a very great honour. Be welcome, Compassion.”

Cole smiled vaguely, and Hawke beamed at him and hugged his arm. “Aww, you’re a guest of honour here! That’s so cute!” 

Dorian chuckled, and Fenris pondered it all in silence for a moment. The Avvar’s most respected advisor was a mage who spoke with spirits for guidance, and all the Avvar accepted it? It was so strange, and so vastly different from anything Fenris had ever seen before. 

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There was one other mage he and Hawke knew who had spoken with spirits for guidance. 

Merrill, he thought. An instinctive surge of dislike rose in his breast at the thought of her, but it was swiftly followed by a pang of guilt. He could too easily imagine Merrill’s scolding and sanctimonious voice if she was here right now and seeing Fenris speaking to the augur in such a calm manner. She would most certainly call him a hypocrite, and… kaffas, she wouldn’t be wrong. 

She wouldn’t be entirely right, either – after all, Merrill’s spirit had turned into a pride demon, and that was her fault. But Fenris himself had called on a spirit for guidance back in the Deep Roads when Hawke had needed healing.

Merrill would call him a hypocrite if she were here, and she wouldn’t be entirely wrong.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, then looked at the augur. “You mentioned that I blaze like fire. You are speaking of this mark, I assume?” He held up his left hand.

“That is correct,” the augur said. “To those beyond the Veil, your hand burns like the watchman’s bonfire. Nearby spirits follow your mark like moths to a flame.”

“We knew that already, though,” Dorian said. 

Hawke looked at him in surprise. “What do you mean?” she asked. 

“Well, that’s how we called that spirit to heal you in the Deep Roads,” Dorian said. “Spirits were near Fenris’s mark in the Fade, and Cole and I helped one to come through.”

The augur folded his arms approvingly. “You do make offerings and appeals to the gods, then. You are more in tune with our ways than you thought.”

Hawke smiled at him. “Does that mean you’ll adopt us as honorary Avvar, then?”

The augur chuckled. “That is up to our thane, not me. You would have to perform a feat worthy of a legend-mark to gain such an honour.”

Hawke lifted her chin boldly. “That sounds like a challenge. All right, my handsome sir, you’re on.” 

Fenris shook his head fondly, then turned to the augur once more. “We have been tasked with tracking down your hold-beast. Do you have any suggestions?” 

The augur’s expression sobered. “Ah, Storvacker. Yes. Our huntmaster last saw tracks of her near Swamp Kulsdotten. I imagine you may pick up her trail somewhere there. But be wary: the swamp is rife with creatures, and the spirits that linger there are not always kind.”

“Good thing we have our own kind spirit, then,” Hawke said, and she gave Cole’s arm another hug. 

The augur smiled at her. “You are fortunate, indeed. Walk well, and may the Lady bless your search.” 

They left the augur’s cabin, and Hawke smiled at them. “Well, that was fascinating. Good thing Bull and Sera didn’t come along for this, they’d be having fits. I’m going to go tell them what happened!” She pinched Fenris’s chin affectionately and ran off.

Fenris smirked and Dorian chuckled, and they followed her down the hill toward the main settlement. A minute later, Fenris shot Dorian a sideways look. “You’re being oddly quiet.”

Dorian gave him a charming smile. “I knew you missed the mellifluous sound of my voice.”

“More like I can hear you thinking, since it requires such work,” Fenris retorted.

Dorian tsked. “That’s hurtful. But I shall tell you my thoughts anyway, since I know you adore them.” He stroked his chin. “Well, you may not adore this, in fact. I was thinking that you’ve changed.”

Fenris raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“You know, with the spirits and all that,” Dorian said. “You’re very calm about it. You wouldn’t have been this accepting two years ago.”

Fenris sighed. “I know. I was thinking about this myself, in fact.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Dorian assured him. “We’re all different than we were two years ago.”

Fenris gave Dorian a considering look. “Do you think you’ve changed a great deal?”

Dorian wrinkled his nose slightly. “I hope I have. I was drunk more often than not before we met.”

Fenris nodded cautiously. “You… mentioned that, yes.”

Dorian shrugged. “I was running away before all of this. I like to think I’m running toward something now, with Maevaris and the Lucerni. Something important.”

“You are,” Fenris said seriously.

Dorian smiled at him, but Fenris was distracted by the faint thrum of guilt in his belly. Dorian’s words were making him recall his earlier thoughts – wistful thoughts of running away with Hawke and leaving the Inquisition and all its trappings behind. In the context of Dorian’s comment about running toward things, toward important and worthy goals, Fenris felt a bit ashamed. It was selfish in the extreme to even consider leaving the Inquisition when so many people were demanding his help.

“Fenris, are you all right?” Dorian said. 

He looked up. Dorian was frowning at him. “You seem more grim than before I left,” Dorian said. “I know your wife isn’t as pretty and charming as I, but still…”

Fenris snorted but didn’t reply. Unfortunately, Cole replied in his stead. “It’s heavy,” he said. “Waiting to be free, wanting something of his own, but weighed down, weary, worn. When will it end?”

Fenris shot Cole a resentful look. “I would rather you didn’t.”

Cole blinked back at him unrepentantly. “Dorian wants to help. Hawke wants to help too, and Varric as well.”

“He’s right, you know,” Dorian said. “If there’s anything I can do–”

“You can’t,” Fenris said. “The Inquisition is my burden.”

His tone was harder than he’d intended, and Dorian raised his eyebrows. Fenris sighed. “I appreciate your concern,” he said in a softer tone. To Cole he said, “Hawke is helping. She just… thinks she isn’t.”

“She would do more if she could,” Cole said softly. “She would take it all away from you if she had the choice.”

“I know,” Fenris said. They all fell silent for a moment.

Dorian broke the silence. “I’m… sorry, Fenris.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly. Then, with an effort of will, he mustered up some Hawke-like positivity and a smile. “Let us focus on finding the bear and inspecting this island,” he said. “I can think of a special role for you in luring the bear out of hiding, in fact.”

Dorian raised his eyebrows. “What role is that?”

“Bait,” Fenris said succinctly. 

Dorian barked out a laugh. “You mean because I’m so tempting and delicious?”

“No. Because you glitter,” Fenris said. He eyed Dorian’s silver-studded robe with disdain. “The bear will see you from a mile away.”

“Ah, Fenris, don’t be jealous,” Dorian said soothingly. “I can have something equally glittery tailor-made for you anytime. Though Hawke would be jealous, I think, if you and I were to match…”

Fenris rolled his eyes, and they continued to pick on each other playfully as they wandered through the settlement. There was no such thing as an escape for the Inquisitor, but Fenris would try and enjoy the bright parts of this holiday while it lasted. 

[aweebwrites]

Wrong Place, Wrong Time

(So! Here it is! The idea was pitched by @floydgarmadork and the au came from @cakeking-cole and @mostlysunnydays!)

__________________

Lloyd grunted as he hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him.

“Get up.” Cole says, holding his scythe defensively as Lloyd panted heavily.

He swallowed before getting to his feet, turning to face Cole while all the other ninja leaned back and watched, Sensei Wu's scrutinizing gaze unmoving on him. This wasn't fair- but then again, when had it ever been? Cole was strong and merciless and all his 'training’ has been to teach him to fight the bad guys perfectly and to never make the mistake of striking a blow against any of them, even as they trained him. Phantom pains bloomed all over his body at the memory of that mistake.

“This is training for the three of you as well.” Wu says, looking towards Kai, Jay and Zane.

“If you insist…” Zane says, pulling his shurikens out of nowhere as he stepped forward, Kai and Jay following suit with their weapons.

Lloyd looked at them nervously. All four of them against him- and he didn't even have a weapon!

“One more thing.” Wu says, pulling out a blindfold and Lloyd paled.

He mentally shook his head. This was all to make him a better ninja… Right?... It's worth it… Isn't it?...

“Maybe it's time for a break.” Nya says, nervous for Lloyd as she watched Wu tie the blindfold on him. “I even have watermelon!” She added cheerfully, holding it up.

“Training has but just begun.” Wu declined, stepping back and allowing his ninja to surround Lloyd who held his hands up in defense (but really, it was to cover himself from their blows).

“A-are you sure? Just a-”

“Begin.” Wu says, cutting her off.

All four ninja charged at Lloyd with a yell and he shielded his face- only to blink once something landed on his head.

“The Falcon!” He pushed the blindfold up to see the ninja looking at his head, a few short steps away and the Falcon lowered its head then, looking at Lloyd.

Lloyd couldn't help but smile at the sight of it.

'Thanks buddy. You're a lifesaver.’

Seeming to hear his grateful thought, the Falcon chirped before flying onto Zane's outstretched arm and squawking at him.

“The Falcon has returned with troubling news. What did you see my mechanical-feathered friend?” Zane asked, cleaning its feet and his arm as he headed towards the bridge, the others following behind him.

“You ok?” Nya asked once they were gone, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah. I'm fine.” He says with a reassuring smile. “Let's go see what's up.” He told her, heading towards the bridge.

Nya watched him go, knowing he was not fine but she could hardly do anything to stop this. She tried talking to them about it before but it went nowhere and she was ignored. Now that he looked older… Things have only been getting worse. She followed him into the bridge. She could only hope things get better. A fool's hope really.

__________________

Lloyd was more excited than he should have been when he heard that they were going to stop his father. But could you blame him? His excitement vanished once he remembered his father doesn't know that he's… Grown. Will he hate him too? He didn't have time to think about it. He had to stop his father from using the Mega Weapon. He grunted as he somersaulted before Wu and the other ninja, using ice to freeze his father's Mega Weapon, making him growl before he froze.

“Lloyd?... Is that… You?...” Garmadon asked, shocked.

What happened to his boy? Did they do something to him?!

“Yeah. I've grown a little since the last time you saw me, dad.” Lloyd says sheepishly and Jay rolled his eyes behind him as Cole sneered.

Garmadon had more to say, more to ask but he saw the nindroid move towards his son and he growled.

“Stop him!” He yelled and the Serpentine hissed, rushing at the ninja as he escaped under the holding area beneath the stands, closing the door behind himself.

He then hit the iced up Mega Weapon against the wall, breaking some of the ice around it.

“Blast those ninja! It's bad enough they always stand in my way but to treat my son like they do?!” He growled angrily, knowing he couldn't force his son to follow his dark path but wished he would so he could protect him. “If only they weren't around! If only they never existed!” He yelled, slamming the Mega Weapon against the wall once more, shattering all the ice around it before he perked up.

“Yes! Yes! That's it!” He laughed gleefully before holding the Mega Weapon in all four hands. “Hear me Mega Weapon! I wish I could go back in time, and make it so the ninja were never formed in the first place!” He yelled and the weapon glowed, creating a glowing, swirling portal to the past.

“Now, to finish the Ninja once and for all, so that not only does my son never become the green ninja, but he never had to suffer under Wu and his dastardly ninja!” He yelled before jumping into the portal.

Just then, the Ninja, Wu, Nya and Lloyd burst in, only to find Garmadon gone and a glowing portal left behind.

“He used the Mega Weapon again!” Cole yelled, gesturing to the portal.

“Oh great! Just great!” Jay yelled, throwing his hands up. “Everytime he uses that stupid thing, something bad always happens! Now what?!”

“That's just like Garmadon. Always causing us trouble!” Kai growled.

“And the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.” Zane commented and they all turned to shoot Lloyd a glare who wisely looked away, keeping his head low.

Suddenly, the ground began to rumble and sand began to fill the area.

“What's going on?!” Kai asked, alarmed as the sand filled the area alarmingly quick.

“Is the city sinking?” Jay asked, confused as he kept pulling his feet out of the sand.

“Worse. The city is returning back to the desert, as if it had never been found in the first place.” Zane says as sand began climbing up their calves.

“Uh, what? What does that mean?” Kai asked as Lloyd frowned, feeling strange.

“Garmadon's gone back in time to make it so Lloyd never turns into the green ninja!” Zane explained and they all gasped then hummed.

“Actually, that's not so bad.” Jay says as Lloyd held up his fading hands.

“I can't… I can't feel my hands…” He says to Nya who was looking at his hands horrified.

“He's doing a good thing for once.” Cole agreed.

“Perhaps this is for the best…” Wu says, stroking his beard.

“No it's not!” Nya yelled at them, thinking of an excuse for them to go save Lloyd. “Garmadon isn't going back to stop Lloyd from being conceived or anything, he's preventing you four from ever becoming ninja!” She yelled and they gasped, horrified.

“We have to go in and stop him!” Kai yelled as they struggled through thigh deep sand.

“Protect your future ninja!” Wu yelled after them and they nodded at their Sensei before jumping forward, into the portal.

__________

Later on, Nya sighed in relief from the Bounty where she was seated with Lloyd, his hands coming back in full as his picture in the group photo hung on the wall. He was in the far back, smiling warily but it was a sign that his future was secure… For now at least.

“Don't worry Lloyd, you'll be ok.” Nya says, draping a blanket over his shoulders and he gave her a meek smile.

Wu, who was standing by the door, turned away then with a frown on his face, walking towards the edge of the deck where he could see the dark gray clouds retreating from Ninjago City. He told his students to secure their future and he has no doubt that they will.

____________________

“Ok. So we're here in the past and we just made sure Wu took Kai to the monastery.” Cole says, hands on his hips.

“Your point?” Kai asked with an arched brow.

“My point is, wouldn't that little brat be in Darkly's right now?” Cole says and one by one, they all light up at the implications of his statement.

“Are you guys thinking what I'm thinking?” Jay says with a wicked grin.

“Eliminate all chances of Lloyd becoming the green ninja?” Zane supplied helpfully.

“Eliminate all chances of Lloyd becoming the green ninja.” Kai repeated more sinisterly.

“What are we waiting for? Let's go.” Cole says and they nodded at each other before moving out.

______________

Garmadon temporarily ditched the Skullkin once a feeling of dread washed over him suddenly. He knew the ninja where in the past with him and knew they thwarted his attempt to end their careers as ninja before they even started but the last time he felt a feeling of dread like this was when Lloyd almost died in the fire temple. Something was very wrong but he knew just where to go…

______________

“Alright. We're here. How do we do this?” Cole asked as they all spied on Lloyd who was sitting alone in his dorm room, drawing on a piece of paper.

“Oh! Oh! Send him to the underworld!” Jay says with a grin, pulling out a Skullkin mask.

“Hmm. That would be feasible, but Garmadon is in the underworld at this time. And how would we get there to begin with?” Zane questioned.

“Through the Fire Temple. But that's off the list. What else?” Kai asked, looking towards his brothers.

“He got kicked of this place for not being evil enough, right?” Jay asked them and they grinned at that.

“So… We stir up some trouble and blame it on him.” Kai chuckled.

They all looked at each other before nodding, sneaking into the school.

Jay blindfolded a teacher, pulling them into a secret passage before tying him up and stealing his clothes. Cole, Zane and Kai set up the traps, Cole luring all the students into the mess hall with the promise of candy written on a piece of paper and posted to the wall.

Jay walked towards the teacher's lounge once they have him the go ahead and he opened the door.

“Fellow evil teachers!” Jay yelled, pitching his voice lower and the three ninja facepalmed at his choice words. “That student! Lloyd Garmadon has captured all the other students!” He continued and the evil teachers looked at him before laughing.

“What? That brat? There's nothing evil about him. Look again Dr. Evilman.” A woman says, brushing him off and Jay had a moment of panic before he thought of something.

“He’s changed! He- he even called his father!” Jay yelled and they all gasped.

“You- that's obscene!” A male teacher says, getting to his feet. “Everyone knows Lord Garmadon is trapped in the underworld! I'll prove it!” He yelled, pushing Jay aside, the other teachers rushing to the door to see.

“Wait…” Zane says, holding a hand out towards Kai who holding onto a rope that lead to the inside, watching the teacher walk closely. “Wait… Wait… Now!” He yelled and Kai pulled the rope, making the floor beneath the teacher give way.

He yelled as he fell, a loud grunt sounding after, making the teachers now gathered outside the teacher's lounge gasp.

“I'm fine!” He yelled out but then Cole pulled his rope, letting the Spykors free.

His screams echoed as they rained down on him, making the teachers whisper in fear as Jay snuck out.

“Alright!” Jay yelled, highfiving the others.

_____________

Nya gasped once Lloyd groaned, hold up his hands that were disappearing again.

“No! Why is this happening?!” Nya yelled panicking, the disappearance happening quicker this time.

“It’s fine Nya. Don't- don't worry about me…” Lloyd says with his brightest smile, despite his arms being gone and his legs quickly following.

“No! Lloyd…” She whispered, not knowing what to do as tears poured down her cheeks.

___________

Garmadon ran towards Darkly's, hearing screaming and crashing that made his blackened heart pound into his throat. Lloyd! He was about to rush in once he heard four sets of familiar laughter. He growled, rushing around to the side of the school where the ninja were all watching the chaos, having themselves a jolly good time. Garmadon wanted nothing but to wipe those smiles off their faces. Permanently.

“Garmadon!” Zane gasped once he spotted him, warming the others as he charged at them with a yell.

His Mega Weapon clashed against Kai's sword, sending Sparks flying as he struggled against Garmadon's wrath.

“A little help guys?!” Kai yelled, just before Garmadon sent him flying back a sharp blow to the gut.

He whirled around, blocking the shurikens thrown at him before yelling as he charged at the master of earth.

“Woah! What's gotten into you?!” Cole gritted out, skidding back as he used his scythe to hold him back.

“Worry about what's about to be in you!” Garmadon yelled, lifting his megaweapon, revealing it's pointed tip at the bottom and Cole paled.

Luckily for him, Jay and Zane ran in, both of them kicking him away from their friend. Garmadon stuff back but growler as he regained his footing. Despite how strong and energy he appeared, he was still very much weakened by the use of the Mega Weapon. It was his rage that have him second wind. His son could be-

“You! Lloyd Garmadon!” They all froze at the teacher's yell from the inside.

“Uh, me?” Past Lloyd says, confused from his bed, looking at the teacher with crispy hair standing by the door.

“Don't play innocent! We've rescued the other children from where you locked them in the mess hall but you. You are in big trouble! Detention!” The teacher yelled at him.

“But I didn't-!” Past Lloyd cut himself off.

What was he doing?! Taking the fall for this would make the others respect him!

“I mean uh, Mwuhahaha! Yes! I did it! Me, Lloyd Garmadon!” He yelled and the teacher only grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out.

Garmadon panting, second wind gone now that he knows his son was unharmed. He retreated while they were distracted, running down to the Skulkin bike he stole, the ninja snapping out of it to rush after him.

“You will pay ninja! I promise you this! You may have ruined my son's day but I'll be ruining your entire life!” Garmadon spat at them before riding off down the hill.

“Stop him!” “He's getting away!” “No!”

Garmadon kept speeding downwards, his speed gauge going from green to orange to red, until he winked out of existence, reappearing in the Underworld. Now, to have a chat with his old self…

_______________

Nya was outright sobbing, holding onto what was left of Lloyd. He was nothing but a head and half a torso now.

“Hey… Come on… S-stop crying like that…” Lloyd says, looking up at her with tear filled eyes as her tears fell against his face. “Don't worry about it. You should be happy! You won't have me to worry about anymore…” He told her with a watery smile, tears running down the sides of his face.

“How can-can I be happy?! I rather have you alive and to w-worry over you all the ti-time than to n-not have you at a-all!” She got out between sobs, the last of his chest vanishing, moving up his neck now. “You can't leave Lloyd! Please!” She yelled desperately, cupping his head with shaking hands as his neck disappeared.

“I'm sorry Nya…” Lloyd says, mouth disappearing and Nya was all out hysterical.

He looked up at her, with teary green eyes before closing them and vanishing completely. Nya looked down at her empty lap, reaching a hand down to see if hopefully, he just turned invisible. But no. The space where he once lay was completely empty. Nya's breathing picked up as even more tears poured down her cheeks.

“LLOYD!!!”

_______________

(HALP! I NEED TO BE STOPPED! Anywho! From here, the ninja go back to the monastery, kidnap Nya, and the story continues on. Hope you liked it!)